Trip Wire
by FutureMrsStabler
Summary: While investigating a series of brutal attacks, Elliot crosses paths with a group of dangerous convicts who plan to make sure he never forgets them.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Please take notice of the rating before reading this story. This is going to be a very long and tedious story, and I ask for as much patience as possible. I am trying out a different format for this story as I feel it will be the best for the effect I am working for. The subject matter and content are extremely graphic, and so if anyone feels it is inappropriate I ask that you do not read. **

The cold wrapped around his entire body worse than he had ever felt before, almost like it was coming from the inside out. The t-shirt he wore had long ago soaked. His jeans had been cut off at some point in the beginning and the remains of his boxer shorts did little to protect his exposed lower body.

Water rippled gently up to his nose and he scrunched it quickly, the simple movement causing so much pain that he nearly passed out. Every sinew in his body ached to the point that he couldn't even muster the strength to take a full breath.

The dirty rag shoved tightly into his mouth tasted bitter from his vomit. It had touched the back of his throat and his gag reflex had instantly reacted. He had thrown up twice before he was able to calm down and force himself to breathe through his nose.

The ropes on his hands were soaked with the water, but it didn't make them any looser. Not that it really mattered; his hands were past the point of numb now. Even if they were completely free, he doubted that he could lift a single finger.

His genitals throbbed with every shiver that racked his body and the skin between his legs felt raw, but it was the ache deep inside that was the most painful. Nothing he did helped to ease it. He had shifted position so many times, but since they had left him on his back every movement was torture.

The reeds around him were tall enough to hide him from view, so they didn't have to worry about anyone seeing him from the sky, and he was in no condition to try and escape. He was completely helpless, in every sense of the word.

He sucked in a breath through his sobs, trying to be as quiet as he could. The last time they had heard him crying, one of them had shoved his head under the water until he was on the brink of unconsciousness and then beat him with a rod until he collapsed into the dirt.

In the beginning, he would zone out and concentrate on replaying voices in his mind. The sound of his loved ones gave him a sense of peace and calm, and he latched on with all his might. Every time it got to be too much, their voices would help.

But after such a long time of only hearing these voices around him, his family had disappeared. He dug desperately into his memories, trying as hard as he could to recall even the smallest intonation….but he found that they were gone. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember any of them.

At times, he could get their faces to flash in his mind. He saw each of his children in various stages of growing and was relieved that they always seemed happy. He saw his best friend sitting across their desk and could recall even the slightest dimple in her face, even when she wasn't looking at him. He saw his boss standing in front of his office and looked for his kind eyes that always belied his tough act when he was trying to get them to work.

It would only be a matter of time before these were gone too. As each day passed, the struggle became more increasing to conjure them and he knew that they would soon evaporate as well. Everything that made up his life before had slipped away.

His memories now consisted of the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening. The tide coming to just past his neck before the moon came out. The fear that assaulted him each time he heard footsteps thumping through the wet ground. The burning in his lower body that left him in too much pain to even lie motionless. The sobs that sang him to sleep every night.

He found himself sometimes saying his own name out loud. It had been so long since someone had said it that he feared he wouldn't even recognize it if he heard it.

He had to hold on to his own identity for as long as he could. Once that was gone…there would be no reason to keep going anymore.

They had taken everything else. His control, his dignity, and his confidence…all of it was nonexistent now.

He didn't fall asleep anymore; his body fought to shut down while his reflexes had to remain sharp. Nourishment was bitter lake water and wet sand, and it hurt so much to urinate that he sometimes passed out. The only human interaction he had came when he was pleading with them to stop.

He didn't pray anymore. At first, he prayed every spare second with every fiber of strength in his being. But after so long, he had finally given up. All those years of worshipping and trying to do the right thing...only to realize that all he had done was give himself vain security. Hell was a cruel joke…nothing could be worse than this. Heaven was an even crueler one.

His entire life had been built on strength. He had prided himself on his ability to subdue criminals, the way he had his glare down to science, and the muscles he worked so hard to maintain.

Now he couldn't even relax. Every twig snap terrified him to the point of sobs; every stillness in the air had him trembling. He was at their complete mercy, and they knew it. They thrived on it. His begging made them laugh; his tears made them hysterical.

He dropped his head sideways onto the wet sand. The ropes were positioned just right so that he wasn't able to lower his face into the water. Each time he passed out, their touch would jolt him back awake.

No matter how hard he tried, there was no respite. They had him so helpless that he couldn't even fucking kill himself.

**Two months earlier**

A ringing phone greeted Captain Don Cragen when he unlocked the door to his office at the beginning of the week. Turning on the light, he dropped his keys on the desk as he reached for the telephone.

"Cragen," he answered.

"Captain," a male voice said. "This is Police Commissioner Geist."

He instantly stood straighter, involuntarily squeezing the phone cord in his hand. "Good morning, Commissioner," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"I received a call this morning from the head of the New York Police Department," he began. His voice had an edge to it and it made Don nervous. "He chewed me out for ten minutes wanting to know why this new case made headline news before he was even made aware of its existence." He sounded pissed now. "Can you tell me why you felt the need to not inform me about it?"

Cragen was so confused at his words that he couldn't speak for a moment. "What new case, sir?" he asked finally. "We wrapped a case yesterday, and to my knowledge everything was written up and sent to you via email late last night."

"Have you checked for faxes yet this morning, Cragen?" he said quickly, sounding edgy.

"No, sir," he answered, looking over at the machine. "If you will give me a moment, I can-"

"I'll be coming by later this morning," the commissioner interrupted. "Have your squad _prepared_ to go over this case by the time I arrive….is that too much to ask, Captain?"

He swallowed hard. "No, sir," he answered. "Not at all, Commissioner."

"Good," he said curtly, and left Don with a dial tone in his ear.

He hung up the phone and turned to the fax machine, switching it on.

What the fuck had that been about? He could count on one hand the number of times the police commissioner had called the precinct personally. He usually went through the chief. Something big must have happened…and by the sound of his voice, Don guessed that it hadn't been good.

"Politics has nothing to do with it," Elliot said with a scoff of disbelief. "The guy was lying through his teeth, John! Are you honestly going to sit here and tell me that you couldn't tell?"

"He wasn't lying," John said quickly. "How many times has the man been cut down for every word that comes out of his mouth? The Republican party has been slaughtering him!"

Detectives Elliot Stabler and John Munch were walking down the hall together toward the squad room of the 16th precinct in mid-debate. It was quarter to eight in Manhattan, and the morning was dreary and cold. Both men wore heavy coats to keep out the bitter November chill; Munch had his trademark black trench while Elliot had a fleece overcoat. The temperatures were supposed to hit the mid 40's by the day's end.

Elliot reached out and pushed open the doors while John continued to passionately spew out his political viewpoint, rolling his eyes. He had watched a little of the election speeches the previous night, but he had never been able to stomach politics. In his opinion, it was all just an excuse for the press to blow things out of proportion. Obviously, his friend disagreed.

Detective Olivia Benson looked over from where she stood at her open locker, her face splitting into a grin. By the look on her partner's face, she could guess what John was ranting about this morning. Munch was renowned for his love to stir up controversy; the man would argue that the sun was made of cheese if he thought he could get an audience.

"Oh, Lord." Munch's partner, Fin Tutuola, looked up from his papers and grimaced at her. "He's at it again."

Elliot rolled his eyes at Fin as he went to his desk, shrugging off his coat. "Hey, John," he said, trying to interrupt the man's tirade. "Give it a rest, huh? I'm not the only Republican in the precinct…go give someone else a headache for a while."

Olivia snickered. Elliot laughed, looking over at John before turning back toward his partner.

Fin glared at his partner, seeing the look on his face. "Don't even think about it," he warned with a raised eyebrow. That made the other two laugh harder.

"Fine," he pouted, unbuttoning his coat. "That's fine…make fun all you want." He looked around at his colleagues. "Don't come crying to me when we all become forced into Communism during the next eight years."

"It's not even eight o'clock yet, John." They all looked over when the captain came out of his office. "Don't you keep a time card or something?"

Munch shot him a sour look as he began writing his morning reports. Elliot got up to hang his coat, grabbing his and Olivia's coffee mugs as he passed.

"Alright, alright," Cragen said, getting serious again. "Listen up, everyone. We've got a new case."

Olivia looked up curiously at his words, smiling her thanks when Elliot set a full mug of coffee and three sugar packets beside her hand.

Munch smirked at his partner before turning his chair around. Fin rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the captain as well.

Cragen had four sheets of paper in his hand, and he passed them to each detective as he spoke. "I received a call this morning from Commissioner Geist informing me of a rape that occurred sometime late last night or early this morning."

Olivia gulped her coffee, feeling sick to her stomach. She met gazes with Elliot and saw shock on his ashen face.

Munch grimaced and put the paper down on his desk, but was unable to look away. Fin closed his eyes briefly in shame and anger.

The fax copies displayed the photo of a murdered woman. Her legs were spread in a grotesquely obvious way that told that she had been raped, her skirt lying in shreds a few feet away from her. Blood trailed down the pavement where she laid face-down, leading to her vaginal area. Her shirt had been lifted to expose a bloody number "1" carved deep into the skin.

They all fell silent, the jovial atmosphere gone instantly. Cragen looked at them somberly before tacking another copy up onto the chalkboard.

"Dispatch wasn't made aware of it until several hours later, which is why we didn't get any calls last night," he continued, turning back to them.

Elliot forced himself to ignore the carnage and studied the paper carefully. Something caught his eyes and he squinted, leaning close to get a better look.

"You guys," he said. "Look at that."

The three looked over at him, puzzled. With furrowed brows, he stood up and walked over to the chalkboard, lifting his finger to the paper. He traced down to the bottom left hand corner.

"There are initials there," he said. He squinted, but couldn't make them out. "Can anyone make out what they are?"

"KP," John said after a minute, holding his copy close to his face. "It looks kind of like…" He furrowed his brows and squinted at the picture again. His face was troubled when he looked back up. "It looks like the kind that stores put on one-hour developments."

"It is," Cragen said, once he saw where they were heading. Four pairs of eyes looked at him in disbelief, and he quickly continued. "Guys…that's the reason I got the call. This was developed at a convenience store on 123rd street."

"Wait, wait…" Olivia looked up from studying her copy with alarm on her face and walked up to stand beside her partner. "What is that?" She pointed to the top of the photo, where several letters appeared to be cut off, but it was obvious what they were. "Is that a headline?"

At the captain's silence, looks of horror came over their faces.

"You've got to be kidding," Fin murmured, disgusted. "Someone put this in the _paper_?"

"Not the paper," Cragen said grimly. "The tabloids." He shook his head. "The store had just opened, and it seems that one of the early customers for one-hour developing was a reporter for the New York Ledger." He looked at them knowingly. "I'm sure you can guess how they wound up in there."

Elliot scoffed angrily. "The technician leaves the developed photos on the machine since there's not that many people in the store and goes back to develop the guy's pictures," he surmised. "The damn barracuda saw them and figures he's made himself a new headline."

Olivia shook her head in disgust. "What a slimeball," she said softly.

Cragen stepped in before any more personal feelings could be voiced. "Geist is planning on stopping by sometime in the next four hours," he said, looking at them pointedly. "He managed to stop the press from printing copies of _The Ledger_ by telling the department chief we had an official case started and they were interfering with a police investigation."

He raised his eyebrows. "That means if we don't have something for him, he'll be lying to the head of the department," he said. "If he gets chewed out, every single one of us will be brought before the review board for insubordination." He gave them all pointed stares. "We need to find out who this woman is before he steps foot into this room."

Fin's eyebrows jumped as he exchanged glances with his partner.

"So," he continued after a minute. "Benson, Stabler…pay a visit to the medical examiner and ask her to give you a list of all Jane Does brought in between yesterday and today." They nodded quickly and he turned to the others.

"Munch, Fin…go down to the convenience store where the photos were developed and talk to the development staff. Have them pull up names and addresses of all film drop-offs from last night…maybe we'll get lucky and find out who took these pictures."

Chairs scuffled as the detectives got up quickly. The captain went into his office.

Elliot shook his head and let out a breath. Having been the only member of the unit to already have experienced a trip before the review board, he knew personally that it wasn't something to look forward to. Cops could only get by with so much…if he got called before them again, he didn't doubt the possibility of a suspension this time.

"We'll call you if we get anything," Munch said to Elliot as they passed. He nodded gravely.

Olivia grabbed his jacket as she was putting on her own and handed it to him. "So…how's your morning been so far?" she asked wryly.

He rolled his eyes and sighed as they headed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Sorry about the confusion-something screwed up with my account and I had to resubmit the first chapter, so that's why some of you may have receivetd another alert about my story. Sadly, my reviews got deleted…care to fix that for me: I'm still trying to figure out the bestb way to separate the present day scenes from the ones that occur earlier…any assistance or suggestions are welcome. BTW...is anyone else confused as to why this story isn't showing up on the site? I'm assuming all my reviews have been courtesy of author alerts because every time I check the site my story isn't there! WTF?**

Olivia trudged up the stairs to her apartment, robotically unlocking the door and stepping inside. She threw her purse down on the small table by the door and went into the living room, flopping down on the couch.

Picking up the remote, she turned on the TV out of habit and mechanically flipped through channels without seeing a thing that passed in front of her.

"Today marks day twenty-nine in the search for abducted Manhattan police officer Elliot Stabler…"

She froze with the remote gripped in her hand, squeezing so tight that her knuckles began to ache. The face of her best friend flashed on the screen again, just as it had almost every night on the 11:00 news, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She willed herself to change the channel, but instead remained frozen and listened to the words as they came from the announcer's mouth.

"He was taken from a warehouse on East 22nd Avenue on June 2nd during a routine beat stop with his partner," the woman continued, glancing down at her notes and back at the screen again. "The identity of his kidnappers remains withheld at this time, but Chief of Police Andrew Stoneman had this to say."

Olivia's eyes welled up as she continued to watch as the camera panned to an image of a man on the steps of the courthouse. He had a morose expression as he opened his mouth to speak:

"The entire department is in a state of grief," he said somberly. "Elliot is a friend to everyone. We are all doing whatever we can to bring him home."

The camera came back to the anchorwoman. "The NYPD has issued a statewide AMBER alert and continues to ask for any and all assistance to aid in their search.  
Stabler is a member of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, a division that investigates child abuse, elder abuse, and sexually-based offenses. He has been a member of the police department for 15 years." She looked sympathetically at the camera and then continued on with the other news.

Olivia switched off the television and hurled the remote across the room as tears came crashing out. She began to sob, wrapping her arms around her middle, and leaned back into the couch cushions.

**Two Months Earlier**

Cragen looked up when the doors opened. Olivia and Elliot came inside and went to their desk, taking off coats and scarves. He raised his eyebrows at them.

"Find anything?" he asked.

Olivia looked at him glumly. "Warner had over three dozen unidentified bodies of women between the ages of 19 and 35, and an even longer list of names from Missing Persons."

She shook her head. "It will take days to sift through everything and try to match…and that's _if_ this woman is even in that age group. Dental records won't be in until late sometime Wednesday for us to know for sure."

The captain grimaced and looked to Elliot. "Can we at least try to find her assailant?"

Elliot raised his eyebrows hesitantly, knowing that his answer was not going to be well received. "Whoever did it got rid of all traces of semen and hair possible," he said carefully. His expression was astonished. "I'm talking everything. Warner went as deep as…"

He swallowed hard, fighting back a shudder. The captain raised his hand quickly to fend off the words with a look of disgust.

"She went over every possible area she could think to look," he amended after a minute. "Her attacker knew what he was doing."

The captain sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "That's wonderful," he muttered, looking up at the wall clock. It was 9:30. He sighed in frustration before turning his attention back to them. "Alright, well…just-just get started on the new reports," he said helplessly. "Hopefully the others will have something."

Jeering laughs boomed around him. It was early morning and they usually were asleep now.

Unfortunately, it appeared that one of them currently had insomnia.

The man had him pinned into the sand, pressing his face down hard so that the others wouldn't know what he was doing. He had been left on his stomach this time, his freshly retied hands jerking painfully behind him with every movement.

This one hadn't even bothered untying him from the dock like they usually did. He got right into the shallow water with his pants already down.

"You like it, huh?" the man grunted. "You like it rough…you're the kind of guy that likes it rough."

Elliot was so tense that each intrusion felt like he was being split in half. The man shoved deeper inside unexpectedly, making Elliot howl in agony, and began rocking himself on his knees. His throaty moans sounded like an animal as his hands pressed deep into Elliot's back.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man whimpered with each thrust. "Thank you, Jesus!"

Whimpers rose in his throat as Elliot forced himself to close his eyes. The next thrust made him groan before he could help it, but he kept his eyes closed, searching desperately through his mind.

"_You're just going to sit here all night until I do, aren't you?" Olivia said sarcastically, looking over at him. Her dark eyes gleamed with laughter. "You stubborn son of a bitch."_

_His chuckle made his chest rumble. "Yes, I am," he answered with a shit-eating grin._

_She snickered and opened the door. Her smile reached her eyes when she turned back to close it before hurrying toward her building._

The sharp fiery burn brought him back to reality. The man gasped hard for breath, panting with satisfaction. Getting to his feet, he zipped his jeans and walked off without a word.

Elliot kept his face pressed into the ground. The cold air on his backside suggested that it was over, but he continued to keep his face down for fear of being wrong. His body shook hard.

Finally, he tentatively inched his head up and turned to look behind him. He was gone.

Sobs erupted quickly and he lowered his head again, resting his face sideways in the sand. His cheeks stung from the force of being shoved into the ground. Each sob that racked his frame made him moan in pain.

He felt his stomach rising and quickly moved his head as best he could. The vomit tumbled out in an instant, most of it not making it past the cloth. Every heave caused the fabric to brush the back of his throat and gag him even more.

He choked and gagged until it finally stopped; leaving him so weak that he couldn't even move himself away. Lying with his face in his own vomit, he sobbed until he saw black.

Fin rubbed his eyes and pushed away from the computer, his joints protesting the movement by popping loudly. Wincing, he rolled his neck.

The squad room was empty now. Olivia had been the last one to leave, departing about an hour ago.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was 12:30 am. He looked over at the desk next to his and got up.

Nothing across from Olivia's side of the desk had been touched. The coffee mug sat next to the lamp, half-full of coffee that was now congealing. The pen that had been yanked from his mouth as he got up quickly lay tossed haphazardly across the keyboard. The computer was on and the screensaver proclaiming "Hoo-rah" continued to scroll across the monitor.

Sighing softly, Fin reached out and gently flipped the page on the United States Marine Corp desk calendar. It was a seemingly insignificant gesture, but no one dared question it. Every day before the last one left, someone always made sure to change the date on his calendar so that it would be correct when he came home.

The hope that had formerly been bursting from every corner was barely visible. After twenty-nine days, the stoic wall that they had gradually built up around themselves was so fragile that no one even spoke his name now for fear of breaking it. As hard as they all tried, though, they were beginning to crack.

Olivia was the first to start crumbling. She had slowly withdrawn herself and was so lost in her grief that no one could reach her anymore. Stricken with guilt and fear, she became unrecognizable. Though she tried to hide it, they all knew that every day she went up into the crib and cried. Her other half was gone and she didn't know how to function.

Munch had become a different person. He came to work each day somber and quiet, barely speaking unless necessary. His usual quips and one-liners were no longer thrown out, and he didn't put as much effort into the job as he had before. He put in his hours and went home.

Captain Cragen became a mother hen. They had never seen him so anxious before. The incident had shaken him so badly that he had to make sure they all stayed in his sight. He constantly made sure that he knew exactly where each of them went during the day, and called them after work to make sure they arrived home.

Fin sighed deeply. He wasn't any better.

He didn't go home; every day when he left the squad, he drove up and down the interstate questioning every patrolman he saw about if anyone had seen Elliot. He had a portable radio set up on his kitchen table and listened all day for news. He couldn't sleep; every time he closed his eyes he saw his friend's face. He ate without tasting anything. He was simply functioning.

He went to his locker and removed his coat, shutting off the light as he slipped it on. Sighing heavily, he looked across the room once more at the desk as he opened the doors.

"Goodnight, Elliot," he said softly.

**Two Months Earlier**

Munch and Fin hadn't ended up with a single thing from the convenience store. The security camera was broken and all of the discarded film rolls that were thrown out every day had already been picked up by the trash truck. The photo technician couldn't seem to remember any details about the man who dropped off the film containing the pictures, and had forgotten to put his receipt on file when he left.

When Commissioner Geist arrived, they had nothing. The man was not happy, to say the least, and had spent almost a half-hour in Cragen's office. The detectives knew that their boss was getting his ass chewed, and knew that as soon as the commissioner left, _they_ would get their asses chewed.

Sure enough, the minute he left, Cragen turned back to them with a glare that could have melted ice.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, the phone rang.

"Stabler," Elliot answered as he picked it up. He picked up a pen and scribbled quickly as he listened. "Mm-hmm…yep…got it. Will do. Thanks."

He put down the phone. "Homicide requests our presence at a crime scene," he said. "1435 West 45th." He looked at the captain hesitantly, seeing he still looked like he wanted to spit fire.

Cragen shook his head. "Go," he said. "All of you…whatever, just go." He shook his head again and went into his office.

Olivia raised her eyebrows at her partner as she stood up. They waited for Munch and Fin before walking out of the squad room.

"Remind me to thank whoever just made that call," Fin said under his breath.

Elliot snickered, making him grin.

The four detectives arrived at the scene fifteen minutes later. Olivia pulled her coat tighter around herself as she was unbuckling her seatbelt and stepped out of the sedan.

A uniformed officer glanced over at their approach with a questioning look.

"Elliot Stabler, Special Victims," he introduced as he walked up to him.

"Olivia Benson," she added, stepping beside him. She glanced around at the activity flourishing on the street corner. "What've we got?"

John stepped up beside CSU technician Jake Thomas and gazed down at the body. The man was lying next to a dumpster with his entire genital region exposed. His pants were nowhere in sight, as well as his undergarments.

A swirl of disgust passed through his stomach, but he ignored it. It wasn't often that they saw male victims.

It wasn't until he looked closer that he saw it.

"Cause of death appears to be a blow to the head," the officer said to Olivia. "Raped several times from behind, genitals mutilated." She grimaced.

"Any idea how many attackers?" Elliot asked, looking over where the CSU technicians had suddenly gathered around the body with Munch and Fin.

"I'd guess three to four," the officer said, shrugging. "But that's just out of my ass. I didn't read the CSU report; soon as I saw the guy I called you."

Olivia was now walking over to the body. Elliot's attention was peaked. "Thanks," he said, turning away.

She hopped up and down to warm herself as she stood a little ways from the group. Taking her hands from her pockets, she blew on them and rubbed, vainly attempted to get a little heat into the thawed fingers.

Elliot stepped up beside her, his eyes scanning the group curiously, as he peeled off his gloves. He absently handed them over to her as he was walking toward them.

Olivia smiled, taking the wool gloves and hurriedly slipping them over her frozen hands. Her partner had his hands shoved into his pockets. Now his hands were going to be cold, and she knew he wouldn't say one word about it.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping up beside one of the technicians. He looked to Fin. "Did you find something?"

Fin looked back with raised eyebrows. "Feels to me like a little bit of déjà vu," he said wryly.

Elliot looked at him in confusion. When Fin jerked his eyes back toward the body, he did the same. It took him a minute to see it.

Raising his eyes back up, he shook his head and blew through his cheeks.

"What's so interesting over here?" Olivia asked, stepping up beside Elliot.

Her partner didn't respond. Instead, he stepped to the side a little to give her a view of the body. She looked down, and then back up in shock and disgust.

A bloody number "2" was carved into the flesh of the man's stomach.

Cragen turned out the light and pulled down the comforter, placing pillows down against the headboard. The clock on the wall read 1:30 am. He was exhausted and yet knew he wouldn't sleep.

After situating the pillows the way he wanted them, he stepped away from the bed and got down on his knees beside it.

For forty years, he had commanded countless numbers of police officers. Most were down-and-dirty-with-no-shame men and women who told vulgar jokes in the locker rooms and went out after work to get sloshed together. It was the way of life in law enforcement and frankly, was expected of everyone.

When he became head of the Special Victims Unit, he didn't see very many people who claimed religion. So it came as a bit of a shock to learn that one of his best detectives was in fact a practicing Catholic. He would see him saying a prayer quietly before he ate a meal in the station, or would go up in the crib and find him reading his Bible during a lull in activity. He discovered from Elliot's first partner that he carried a string of rosary beads with him during cases, and that whenever they had to visit a hospital to question a victim, he would offer to pray with the family if they were religious.

Don had never once questioned the detective about it during all the years he had worked under him, but he had seen evidence of his faith in hard times. It warmed his soul to see such an innate trust from a person who had seen the depths of Hell and beyond with each case.

He himself was never religious; his parents had taken him to church as a child, but he hadn't attended since his early 20's. But the events of the last month had changed everything. Every night, he was on his knees.

He begged God to let them find Elliot. He prayed that he would remain safe and that his fears would be calmed until they brought him home. He told Elliot how much he missed him and that he was sorry for all the times he had said things to him that he regretted. He asked for safety for the rest of the squad and prayed for patience as they continued to search.

His knees were wobbly as he stood up. Wiping the tears that had fallen down his face, Cragen slid into bed and laid his head down on the pillow, staring out the window at the stars as he waited for morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story. **

**Author's Note: I lowered the rating for the purpose of hopefully getting a bigger audience. The same warning applies as before, however; please be aware of graphic content before reading. Thanks. **

**Six Weeks Earlier **

"Alright, people," Cragen said in a no-nonsense tone. "Here's what we've got to work with."

Pinned to the chalkboard were three photographs. One was the original picture that had started the whole case, the second was the man found by the Homicide division, and the third was the newest victim that had been found just the day before.

Also male, this victim had been beaten to the point of disfiguration. A number "3" had been carved into his lower abdomen. But unlike the other two, this one had a glimmer of potential. A small sliver of wood had been discovered during the autopsy, suggesting that he had been penetrated with a foreign object.

The piece was so small that not even the most powerful microscope that Warner had was able to pick it up. She had made a call to the State of New York Forensic Headquarters in Rochester to request the use of their equipment. For now, the detectives were waiting for her to get back to them.

The captain tapped the board with his finger in agitation. "Someone, _somewhere,_ has to know one of these people,' he said. "In a city this big, what are the odds of three people being killed and no one even reporting them missing?"

John looked around for a minute, debating on whether or not to say something. After a minute, he ventured with raised eyebrows, "Um…three out of a million?"

Cragen turned to him with an exasperated expression. Elliot scrunched his face up in disgust and Fin scoffed in annoyance.

He shrugged, trying for wide-eyed innocence. "What?" he asked. "Just a shot in the dark."

Olivia rolled her eyes and shook her head with a huff. John glanced around at the annoyed faces of his colleagues and pursed his lips quietly, squinting one eye and shrugging again.

Shaking his head, the captain got back on subject. "How much did you get from Missing Persons?" he asked, directing the question at Benson and Stabler.

Olivia fielded the question. "Twenty lists circulated just from the last forty-eight hours," she said. "The archives are ridiculous….over six thousand names within the last five years and over half are cold cases."

Elliot sat forward with a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't know, though," he said quietly. He bit his lip indecisively, looking up at Cragen. "These don't seem like random killings. I think the rapists know their victims."

"What makes you say that?" Fin questioned.

Olivia watched her partner stand and go over to the board. A small smirk rose on her face for a completely random reason. Elliot always had to have his hands on whatever the case was, literally and physically. Cragen moved to the side with a look of question on his face and allowed the detective to step up.

His right hand wandered over to the first picture. "Look how her legs are positioned," he said. "If the doer was just going for a fix, why would he go through the trouble of laying her legs out like that?"

He moved to the second picture. "And this one," he said, gesturing. He circled the pants lying on the ground next to the body with his finger. "Look at his pants."

He turned to face his colleagues with raised eyebrows. Seeing their confused expressions, he elaborated, tapping the photo for emphasis. "There's a crease….right there." He ran his finger over the area he was indicating so that they would see it. "That's not a crumpled-on-the-ground crease." He looked at the captain with conviction. "Someone laid them that way."

Captain Cragen was astonished. He blinked and stepped up next to Elliot, squinting at the picture. He would have never noticed.

"I'll be damned," he said quietly, looking at the detective with a conflicted expression.

There was a moment of silence as the others were chewing on the suggestion. Fin sucked on the side of his lip.

"It…makes sense," he said slowly, sounding unsure. When Cragen looked at him, he raised his eyebrows. "Rape with a foreign object...that's the lowest form of humiliation, especially for a guy."

Elliot glanced at the captain, who was still silent. He was gazing at the pictures carefully now. No one else spoke. He looked at Olivia for a moment, his face heating up slightly.

"Well…" he said uncomfortably. "I'm just saying….that could be one way to look at it."

When Cragen still didn't acknowledge him, he awkwardly went back to his desk.

**Present **

_"Happy birthday, Dad." _

_His heart about melted at the sight in front of him. Glancing at Olivia for a minute, he walked over toward his desk. _

_"You got enough candles on that cake?" he asked flippantly, trying to downplay the emotions that were suddenly fighting to come out. _

_"We always have a cake," Lizzie said matter-of-factly. He was taken aback suddenly when he looked at her…his youngest daughter appeared more grown-up than he had ever seen. _

_Maureen smiled. "Olivia called and said you'd be here," she said, reaching forward to hug him. "Mom lent me the car." _

_The pain shot through his entire body, making him quiver hard. "Stop, please," he begged. _

_He screamed out suddenly at the harsh invasion, groaning tearfully. Someone growled throatily. _

_ "See…Munch-why do you always do that?" The fatigue enveloping him made the insignificance of the situation infuriating. "He puts the lid back on an empty can." _

_ He shook the empty filters in annoyance, ignoring whatever his friend was saying in defense, and grabbed his coat briskly. "I'm getting coffee." _

_"Pastrami on rye," John said quickly. _

_"Latte, no foam," Cragen threw in. _

_He threw an infuriated look back at them and noticed the officer standing next to him. "Got the files for a detective…Benson?" he said, glancing at the sheet in his hand. _

_He looked at the small tower of boxes. His voice dripped with dryness and dark wit as he announced in ridiculous exaggeration, "Captain, we need an incident room!" _

His eyes flew open and he choked, the cloth instantly gagging him and making him panic to draw a breath. He heaved and coughed, his chest closing with the feeling of not being able to breathe.

Fortunately his brain responded on instinct and he began breathing through his nose, the panicked feeling instantly evaporating when he drew in air. Forcing himself to relax, he continued drawing in breaths, his chest heaving.

Tears leaked from his eyes and he lay still, trembling hard. The air was cold and the tide was past his waist. It was almost dawn.

The dream images continued to reverberate around his skull, making his heart ache so much that he thought he would have an attack. Sleep always managed to blindside him somehow, no matter what the circumstance.

He felt the horrible pain all over again, heard their jeering laughs, tasted the bile on his tongue. Memories threw themselves in between of his former life, of the people he loved, of the freedom that was now alien to him. He screamed out their names and struggled to touch them, to cling to them, but they couldn't hear him.

They were so real… even his memories became broken and terrifying. Once he awoke, he would struggle to pull them back, to keep them close, and he never could.

The only thing he could ever remember was the cold and the sound of their laughs.

Olivia curled her legs up underneath of her and shifted position, squishing the pillow behind her neck further up the headboard. Reaching into the shoe box on her lap, she lifted out several items and gently smoothed out each one.

The first thing she grabbed was a newspaper clipping that dated back almost thirteen years-it was Olivia's graduation announcement from the police academy. She smiled softly at the picture; she looked so eager and green in that horrible officer's uniform. She laid it to the side and continued on.

An announcement of Munch proclaiming his fiftieth birthday…the squad had gotten a lot of flack for that one. Cragen was the one who submitted it to the paper as a joke, and boy, was John mad. But the picture he had dug up was priceless. It was worth taking the crap just to see that. It too went to the side.

She flipped through several more after a glance confirmed they weren't what she was after and stopped at the last one on the bottom. Her chest tightened instantly and she took a deep breath as she fingered the picture.

Judging from the background, she surmised that it had been snapped during one of the NYPD family picnics that they were forced to attend every year. Elliot was balancing his weight on a mountain bike, resting his arms against a tree and grinning into the camera. He wore shorts and a short-sleeved polo shirt and was the picture of relaxed contentment.

Her partner had such amazing eyes and the shot had really done them justice. The normally cobalt blue had changed to a bright sapphire that gleamed like some kind of rare jewel. It was ridiculous, really. How on earth could someone possess such beautiful eyes? It was a question she had been asking herself since the moment she had first seen him.

Tears spilled out then and began to stream down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. Sniffling, she set the photo aside and reached back into the box. A dried pink rose was carefully lifted out and set gingerly down on the comforter, followed by a small white card with red writing.

She recalled how surprised she had been when she had come home from work the day after her mother's funeral and found a vase of flowers waiting for her at the front desk. The dozen roses were gorgeous and threw her for a complete loop. There was no return address or note.

While setting them up on her front table, she had discovered the note hidden between two of the blossoms. She knew nothing from the Bible and claimed no religion, yet the simple verse had her in tears for nearly an hour.

She swallowed hard and lifted up the card, reading the words that would forever be engrained in her memory and heart:

_"And God shall wipe away all the tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." _

_Revelation 21:4 _

_Elliot _

Emotion shook her body and she dug deeper into the box, almost in a panicked frenzy now.

A newspaper clipping featuring Elliot after he had rescued a kidnapped child from a drain pipe…it dated back to before she had become a detective. Cragen had shown it to her after they had been assigned to investigate the man's murder.

A photo of the squad at the very first Christmas ball…he stood with one arm around Kathy's waist and the other linked affectionately through hers as they both smiled.

A handmade card made of construction paper that had been presented to her when she had gone to Elliot's house for dinner, a year after she had joined SVU…._Happy Birthday, Olivia! _was written on the inside in Kathy's neat handwriting. Underneath, all four of his children had signed their names and written a short message. She had displayed it on her desk for almost six months.

From the very bottom of the box, she retrieved the last item: a bright orange ticket stub.

The New York Times had buzzed about the game for three months in anticipation. The city was hyped and the gates were swarmed on that January night three years ago as nearly two million fans arrived to see the Knicks host the Pistons.

The Knicks were Elliot's team. He talked about the game nonstop from the second he found out about it and had tried as hard as he could to get tickets. He had been incredibly bummed when they were sold out before he even had a chance to stand in line.

Coincidentally, the game just happened to fall on the night of his birthday. The captain had presented him with a card from everyone, and he had about fallen out of his chair when the tickets fell out. She, Cragen, Fin, Munch, and Kathy had all chipped in for courtside seats.

The game was phenomenal and the Knicks pulverized the other team, but what she remembered most was the look of absolute delight that had seemed glued to her best friend's face the entire night.

She didn't even realize she was sobbing until she was clutching the wet paper in her hand that was now soaked with her tears.

**Six Weeks Earlier **

"Yeah?" Don said briskly into his office phone. He was getting downright irritated with the damn thing; every time he attempted to take care of something, it would interrupt him.

"Captain?" the female caller asked. "It's Melinda Warner."

"Doc," he said, all traces of annoyance instantly vanishing. His hope stirred. "Please tell me you've got good news for us…"

The smile in her voice was evident over the line. "You're in luck today," she said. "I happen to have just that."

He sighed with relief, sinking down in his chair. "I'm all ears," he said, grabbing a pen and pad of paper.

" Rochester just returned the evidence sample," she said. "They were able to lift DNA from the wood splinter."

Cragen grinned. "Melinda," he said wholeheartedly. "I could kiss you right now."

"Easy there, tiger," she said in amusement. "Don't let my husband hear you say that." He chuckled.

Her voice became serious again. "It's not much…and there's no way to tell if it's from a male or a female. All they were able to tell right away was that it is definitely not the same DNA as the victim."

There was a slight pause. "Well, it's a start," he said at last, deflating a little. "At this point, we'll take whatever we can."

"Still haven't found anything?" she asked in surprise.

"Zilch," he said heavily. He shook his head with a sigh. "Thank you, Mel. You have absolutely no idea how much this is going to help us."

"I'm just sorry I can't give you more," she said. There was another pause. "Well…the results are in my files, so I can go ahead and bring them to you now if you'd like."

"No," he said immediately. "You've done more than enough, Doctor. I'll send someone to get them." He began looking out the window at the squad to see what they were all doing. "I really appreciate this. You're a saint."

She laughed. "Compared to some of your detectives, maybe," she said, smiling. "It's my pleasure, Captain. Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"We will," he said. "Thanks again."

He waited for her to disconnect first before hanging up. Getting to his feet, he opened the office door and strode out into the squad room.

"Fin," he called, laying eyes on him first. He looked up, as did Munch. "Go down to the M.E.'s office. The evidence sample came back…they got some DNA off of victim number three."

Olivia and Elliot both turned toward him then.

"Seriously?" Elliot asked hopefully.

"It's not going to help much, but it's something," he said. "Right now, I'll take it."

Fin exchanged a glance with his partner before getting up.

The captain looked around at the rest of them as he left. "Liv, how's it coming on the Mickelson report?" he asked.

She nodded, beginning to write again. "Almost done," she answered. "Give me about ten minutes?"

He nodded and looked at Elliot. "You're in court today?"

He checked his watch. "In an hour," he replied.

"The subway streaker?" Munch asked with raised eyebrows.

Elliot nodded in disgust.

John shook his head. "What is it with subways?" he asked cynically. He raised his eyebrows. "Terrorists want to blow them up and perverts want to play games in them."

Cragen rolled his eyes. "Don't you have a DD-5 to work on?" he asked in annoyance.

Olivia grinned. John shrugged his trademark ominous shrug and began writing again. Elliot met the captain's eyes and smiled in amusement. He just shook his head.

"Hopefully when Fin gets back we can start making some headway on this case," he said. "Call me if you need me." He turned and went back into his office.

The phone rang. Olivia glanced up and saw Elliot do the same. After a brief minute, he grabbed it.

"Stabler," he answered.

She saw his eyes change to the intense expression that he was famous for.

"You're kidding," he said in disbelief. He shook his head slightly. "Damn…alright. Thanks, we'll be right on it. Bye."

"What's up?" she asked, looking at him.

He sighed as he hung up the phone. "That was the 2-6…someone discovered a body in the sewer line off of east Broadway," he said. He looked at her intensely. "A naked female with a "4" carved into her chest."

Her eyebrows jumped in horror and disbelief. He shook his head and sighed, getting up to tell the captain the news.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

With a heavy heart, Cragen opened the door to his office and stepped outside. He began searching with his eyes for the three detectives, his chest feeling tight.

He was somewhat surprised to find them all there. The incident had caused a rift between his team that he was powerless to prevent. Each one blamed themselves for what happened and each other because they were scared. More often than not nowadays, he found himself passing cases on to detectives that he barely knew because the three of them were absent.

Munch and Fin both sat at their desk, but it was obvious that each one was immersing himself in his own task to avoid looking and speaking to the other. The angry expression that had taken over John's face sometime during the last month was now a constant presence.

It always took great effort for Don to look at the other desk. The sight of Elliot's things sitting there untouched, just waiting for him to return, was too heartbreaking to bear. Apparently, Olivia felt the same way. She had moved her things and taken an empty desk on the other side of the room just to avoid having to see it.

It was never spoken aloud, but it was impossible to ignore. Switching desks, not speaking to each other, hardly showing up for work all at the same time….they had stopped trying. It had taken too much from them. They had all become strangers to each other in their effort to become detached. The past month had been so painful that now they were simply struggling to survive.

He feared that this was going to be the final straw, and was terrified of it.

"John, Fin," he called, struggling to put force behind his voice. "Olivia."

They all looked at him. He swallowed hard and gestured to them. "I need to see you in my office."

His screams pierced the air. He couldn't even squirm to try and get some relief. His tears soaked the sand underneath his face as he continued to beg with all his strength.

Their laughs overtook his weak voice. "Woo-hoo!" someone yelled excitedly. "He's still got some spunk yet!"

Another harsh sting and he felt it jam even deeper inside. He yelled hysterically. He'd thought that nothing they did could get any worse.

Today was proving him wrong.

He didn't know what they were using, but he could tell that it wasn't human. It was hard, sharp, and hurt so bad that he was sure that he had just been torn open.

Another hard shove made him scream, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Please, God," he cried hysterically. "Let me die. Please let me die!"

There was no response from God. But the men around him certainly gave him their two cents.

**Six Weeks Earlier**

His cell phone rang as he was leaving.

"Tutuola," he answered, walking toward the doors.

"Victim number four has made her appearance," Munch said.

He grimaced in disbelief. "Where?" he asked heavily.

Elliot shut the door and walked over toward where the crowd of onlookers stood, trying to see past the yellow crime scene tape. Olivia met him around the front of the car.

"Excuse me," he said in irritation, attempting to push through them. "Police, excuse me."

"Folks, back **off**," Olivia said after being almost trampled. "Step aside."

Officer Brian Green gave them an apologetic smile when they were able to clear the throng.

"Sorry, guys," he said, looking past them at the people in disdain. "We didn't make it in time to avoid the public."

Elliot waved it off quickly, looking around the scene. "Who found her?"

Green turned toward the other officers and they mirrored his movement. He pointed toward two men in white uniforms talking to some other officers.

"Two garbage collectors," he answered. "Routine stop at about 6:30 this morning."

Olivia started. "6:30?" she repeated incredulously. She shared a look of disbelief with Elliot. "Why are we just getting the call?"

Green held up his hands. "Don't shoot the messenger, okay?" he said. Her expression softened somewhat. "All I know is my captain told me to contact SVU after he saw the carving in her chest."

Elliot sighed. "Thanks," he said graciously.

The officer nodded and moved over to where the others were. He looked at Olivia and shook his head. She rolled her eyes wearily.

"Well, let's get started," he said, walking toward the yellow tape.

"Whoa, hey!" one officer called out, seeing Elliot about to lift the sewer top. He looked up in surprise, as did Olivia, as the man hurried over.

"You might not want to do that," the officer warned carefully. "I heard the body looks pretty gruesome."

She turned toward the young man. "It's ok," she said. "We're used to this kind of thing. Trust me."

The officer just shrugged.

Munch straightened from where he stood waiting against the hood of his car when Fin pulled up beside him.

His partner had a guarded look on his face as he stepped out of his car.

"Hey," he greeted, jerking his head in the direction of the scene. "What's with the audience?"

They fell into step as they approached. John shrugged.

"Beats me," he replied. "I just got here."

They passed the Crown Victoria and knew that the other two were there already.

An officer saw them coming and began pushing the crowd back again in agitation.

"Back up," he said. "Come on; give us some room here, would you?"

Olivia crouched down and quickly grabbed onto the sewer lid to help Elliot move it out of the way. His head snapped back instantly at the horrible stench that came up at them.

"God," she groaned, facing the other direction.

She felt her stomach rising and had to drop her hold on the lid. Elliot glanced at her.

"Liv, get some air," he said quickly, catching her eyes and holding them with his. She shook her head in protest, but looked as if she would hurl any second. "I mean it…**go get some air**. I've got this…go."

A gag came up the back of her throat. Getting to her feet, she stumbled quickly over toward where the cars sat abandoned.

Elliot looked around. "Hey," he called out to the nearest officer he saw. "Can you give me a hand?"

The young officer came quickly once they saw the heavy lid he was attempting to lift.

"Got it?" he said once they had crouched down and grabbed hold.

"Yeah," he said. He glanced to Elliot. "Ready?"

He nodded and began to lift it the rest of the way off.

Once she was out of range of the horrible stench, Olivia's stomach calmed down. She took a deep breath and expelled it, leaning against the trunk of a squad car with her hands on her knees. She waited for her heart to stop pumping defensively.

"Sorry," the officer said, seeing the annoyed expressions on the detectives' faces. "We tried threatening them but technically as long as they're 500 feet back we can't arrest them."

"Pity," Munch said sarcastically.

"Any chance we might be able to find out who did this?" Fin asked, ignoring his partner without missing a beat.

The officer chuckled darkly. "Funny," he said wryly. He looked at them pointedly when their expressions turned defensive. "Detectives, this isn't-"

"**Oh**…my God."

The horrified exclamation cut through the air and interrupted him. He started and whipped around toward the noise, as did Munch and Fin.

Olivia jerked in surprise, whirling back around toward where she had come from, and immediately began making her way over. She was startled when she saw her partner hurrying away from the sewer with a horrified look on his face.

Fin saw Elliot stumbling almost drunkenly toward them and quickly reached out his arms, stopping him from plowing right into them. He looked up at him in shock, as if he hadn't even seen them in his path.

Munch looked past him in alarm to see another officer throwing up on the ground beside the open sewer.

"No, guys, don't," he gasped. He groaned and straightened up, wiping his face. "You don't want to see that."

He pushed past Fin and slumped against the door of Munch's car. Olivia looked at him, horrified. His face was almost gray.

"Elliot, what happened?" she asked.

He shook his head and took several gulps of air, blowing them out slowly. His stomach twisted for a moment, making him panic, and then settled. Once he was sure he wasn't going to blow his breakfast everywhere, he swallowed and stood up.

His blue eyes were wobbly. "They cut her breasts off," he said thickly, swallowing hard again. "And…sh-shoved them…between her legs."

Olivia's eyes flew wide instantly. "Christ," she whispered in disbelief.

Munch looked absolutely shocked. He gulped and took off his glasses, rubbing them with his shirt.

Fin shook his head in disgust. "We've got some seriously sick mother fuckers on our hands here," he said softly.

**Present**

The sound that escaped his lips was a cross between a groan and a whimper as he collapsed down into the sand. His entire body was spastic.

It had been the longest they had ever gone at one time before. Whatever it was that they had found to use, it obviously gave them more satisfaction than their own bodies did.

He lay still, trying to relax his aching body, knowing all the while that it was fruitless to even try. But he still found himself thanking the God that he didn't even know anymore for the fact that they hadn't laid him on his back.

The quiet around him soothed him somewhat and he closed his eyes tiredly, so exhausted that he couldn't help it.

Then the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his eyes instantly shot open wide.

Looking around wildly, he struggled to lift his bound body up enough to see behind him.

The figure appeared in his peripheral vision and dropped beside him, snapping the rope clean off of the wood with a knife. He gasped in surprise when he was lifted up and slammed down onto his back.

Fire shot through him in a second and he cried out involuntarily, desperately squirming to relieve the pain.

The burly man leaned his weight straight down on Elliot's lower abdomen with something in his hand. Before he even knew what was happening, a pillowcase was being dragged over his head.

He screamed and wriggled around in a panicked frenzy, but with his hands still tied he could do nothing to fight. Blood rushed to his head fast when he was engulfed in darkness. Even more terrified now, he flailed like an insane man, feeling himself starting to hyperventilate.

The heavy weight wasn't budging. He felt the man's hands pressing against his face and he turned his head in the hope of getting him away, but felt himself being forced to still.

The man was beginning to get agitated with all of the squirming. Dropping his legs hard on top of Elliot's abdomen, he pinned him down and wrapped the bandanna around his hand as he felt around again.

Elliot gagged and whimpered while he shoved the material against the cotton pillowcase, the cloth forcing its way to the back of his throat. He panicked even more when he tried to jaw it out and couldn't.

Holding the cloth firmly in place, the man ripped a long strip of tape from the roll beside him and quickly wrapped it around the pillowcase. He could hear his captive crying as the pillowcase became tight around his head with the cloth effectively pinned into his throat.

Elliot sobbed in desperation when the cloth around him became tighter. He was gagged so thoroughly now that he couldn't swallow without causing vomit to rise up.

The weight suddenly vanished from his body but it brought no relief. He quivered hard, so terrified that he almost urinated. His muscles were tense with expectancy as his heart pounded in his ears.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

The voice to the left side of his face made him jump out of his skin and he trembled even harder, the water splashing with the new force.

The man laughed at him as he watched him shaking and the pillowcase moving around as he vainly tried to pinpoint where he was.

His heart sank when he felt his legs being lifted up. He closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could to take his mind somewhere else.

Cragen saw tears well up in Olivia's eyes the minute the words left his mouth and it slammed him hard in the gut. To his horror, he felt his own throat starting to close and fought to keep his composure.

The three detectives stood dumbly and didn't move. The words seemed to float around their heads without quite lodging into their brains. He hadn't just said that. He couldn't have just said that.

Unable to take the looks on their faces, Don closed his eyes as he continued. "He just called," he said hoarsely. "Elliot listed Kathy as his next of kin, but they weren't able to reach her. So they called here next."

He shook his head and opened his eyes to reveal tears swimming. "It's been a month today," he said softly. "The super is going to box up his things…no one is there to pay the utilities and he has no choice. He would lose the whole lease on the complex otherwise."

After a minute more of silence, Munch spoke up.

"Doesn't he know what happened?" he asked quietly, looking at the wall behind the captain's head.

Don nodded slowly. "Yes, John," he answered gently. "Yes, he does. He's as torn up as we are about it…but he's got to earn a living too. If he allows the apartment to stay unoccupied without renting it out, the city will notice sometime and start cracking down."

"I'll pay it," Olivia said suddenly. Her voice was so soft that they barely heard it.

He started, turning his attention from John to her. Surely he hadn't heard her right. "What, Olivia?" he asked.

She blinked quickly and raised her eyes from the floor to stare directly into the captain's face.

"I said, I'll pay it," she repeated, more forcefully. Her lower lip was beginning to quiver slightly. "A month's utilities and rent….I'll pay it. Tell the super not to touch his apartment."

He looked at her with a torn expression. "Olivia-"

"I'm in, too," Fin suddenly said, a determined note in his voice. He met the captain's desperate eyes and locked eyes with Olivia for a moment. She nodded slightly after a pause and he mirrored her. "I'll help pay it."

Don was struggling not to break down in front of them. "Guys-" he said hoarsely. He bit his lip hard to keep the tears at bay, shaking his head. "Listen….I appreciate what you're trying to do. But you have to understand…" He began fumbling for words in desperation. "We can't…we don't…"

"How much is the bill?" John asked.

Cragen sighed softly, reaching for the paper he had laid next to the phone on his desk. "$750 for rent and utilities," he said.

"Then that's $250 from each of us," Munch said quickly. He exchanged a brief look with the other two, nodding with conviction. "Where do we send it?"

The captain sighed again, and they saw the tears start to leak out despite his best efforts. He didn't speak for a moment and kept his gaze on his desk top.

After a minute, he looked back up at them. The three of them had new determination on their faces now that almost broke his heart.

"$185," he said softly, locking eyes with each one individually. "You forgot to divide it four ways."

**Five and a Half Weeks Earlier**

Elliot picked up the last page out of the printer and added it to the stack he had in his hand. Shuffling them, he turned and made his way back to his desk.

He nodded at the captain and handed them over. After looking through them for a minute, Cragen began placing them up on the chalkboard.

Once he finished, he went over to one on the middle and drew a star above it.

The DNA results found on the third victim had, quite surprisingly actually, turned up a match in the system database. Ethan "EJ" Jones had been arrested three years ago for drug possession and several DUIs, and had been sentenced to five years. He had done eighteen months before he was released on "good behavior".

"We know that we've got this one," he said, pointing. He turned toward Olivia. "Tell me again about these others?"

The database had indicated that Jones had been collared by the 1-9 in Suffolk County, Long Island. Cragen had gotten in touch with them and explained about the case, and had sent Elliot and Olivia there to get information from them about the man and any known associates he may have had.

They had been quite surprised when they arrived and found that the unit had already produced several pages of information, as well as a number of other possibilities from their archives. It had taken them two hours when they returned to weed through and put names to faces.

She picked up a notepad, her lips curling in disgust when she found she could barely decipher the wording. Elliot had the neatest handwriting she had ever seen for a man, but when he was in a hurry it ended up worse than most doctors'.

"James…Bor…Bormas," she said slowly. "Convicted in '97…" She squinted in irritation. "What-?" Scoffing, she suddenly picked up the notepad and slapped it down in front of her partner. "You read it…I can't tell what the hell you're saying."

Cragen rolled his eyes.

Shaking his head, Elliot turned toward the captain. "James _Bowman_," he emphasized, shooting Olivia a disgusted look. She raised her eyebrows, undaunted. "Convicted in '97…expired driver's license, under the influence, and reckless endangerment. Sentenced to two years." He looked up from his notes. "Current location unknown."

Don was hastily writing all of the information as he spoke under the picture. "This one?" he continued, moving to the next one.

"Travis Sutton," he read. "Convicted in '98….armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon. Currently serving twelve years."

Surprised, Don turned toward him. "He's still in prison?"

Elliot shrugged. "That's what they said." He waited for the captain to finish writing before moving on to the next.

"John Hughes…convicted in 2000," he said. "Driving under the influence. Sentenced to twenty-one months in a rehab facility, released in October '02. Current location unknown."

He continued through the list until all of the photos were accounted for. When he was through, four of the six were listed as "location unknown."

Cragen eyed the board thoughtfully before turning back to them. "This doesn't add up to me," he said. "The ones who are away from police custody were all convicted of drug and alcohol abuse. The ones who seem more like the ones we would be after are still in jail."

"Well, obviously not," Fin said. "The DNA matched to one who had a DUI, right?"

"Exactly," he said, confusion lacing his voice. He wore a conflicted expression that surprised the detectives. "So either they are really good at hiding their pension for dirty deeds…or something triggered their behavior."

John shook his head, clearly disturbed. "Captain," he said. "What in the world could possible trigger a person to cut a woman's _breasts _off?"

Don looked at him somberly. "That's my point, John," he said. He looked uneasy. "The conditions of the victims we've found have suggested that the attackers knew what they were doing."

He bit his lip and turned back toward the board again, tapping the very first picture they had started with. "Something tells me," he said slowly. "This guy…" He tapped it again, seeming lost in thought.

The detectives were silent, watching their boss struggling with his own internal pulls.

Cragen's eyes narrowed as he turned to face them again. "This guy Jones," he said again, "Either he's turned into a sexual predator from his time in minimum security…"

His voice conveyed just how ludicrous he thought the idea was. His voice had sudden conviction when he picked up again. "Or he's behind something no one would ever think to pin him on."

Don shook his head. "Either way," he continued with trepidation. "We need to focus on him first. This guy is more dangerous than we've given him credit for."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Her hand shook as she slowly withdrew the key from her pocket. It took two tries for her to fit it into the lock. After hearing the _click_, she took a deep breath and turned the knob.

Technically, she was on her lunch break, but food had been the last thing on her mind when Olivia left the squad room. Munch and Fin had invited her along with them to a diner up the street, but she had more important business to attend to.

The apartment was cool, the heater having been turned off, and she couldn't stop the nervous chill that snaked into her stomach as she shut the door behind her. His absence made the small space seem gigantic.

Olivia walked slowly through the foyer and entered the small kitchen, looking around. She had been in this apartment so many times that she knew it as well as she knew her own, but today it seemed like she was seeing it for the first time.

She kept her hands tightly at her side, not wanting anything to be disturbed from how he had left it. The dingy white refrigerator was covered in photographs of his children, held up with assorted magnets. She knew for a fact that not one of the magnets had been purchased by him; they were all given to him by his sister when he moved in.

A sad smile lifted the corners of her lips slightly at the alphabet letters. One of his kids must have been bored recently, judging from the words that had been spelled out in multicolored plastic.

MAUREEN. KATHLEEN. DICKIE. LIZZIE.

ELLIOT.

Her heart began to slowly squeeze, and she bit her lip hard, turning away. The wooden countertops were bare, the sink empty. Boxes of cereal sat atop the refrigerator; most were akin to eating straight sugar and she knew that he ate them every morning, even though he used his kids as his excuse for having them.

She continued on, walking into the living room. It was insanely tidy, a compulsion of his that she had yet to understand given the state of his desk when he was at work. The flat-screen television, entertainment center, and stereo system took up the side of the room closest to the window. The bookshelf and computer desk took up the other side, and the couch was in the middle.

Coming up to the entertainment center, she looked at the frames he had positioned on top.

There was a large picture of a group in dress blues that she didn't recognize, but he was in it so she figured it was before he joined SVU, or maybe from when he was in the Marines.

Another frame featured him and four other men striking ridiculous poses and making faces; Elliot must have not been able to keep it up because the shot captured him bursting out laughing. She recognized the men as his older brothers.

His older sister and brother-in-law were in the next photo, followed by a picture of her and Elliot together. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was grinning over his shoulder. Unlike his brothers, his sister had inherited the same beautiful blue eyes.

There was a picture of his mom, whom Olivia had never met, and a separate picture of his father, also whom she had never met. Neither had blue eyes like his, which was amazing to her.

The last frame was a picture of she and Elliot, the same one that she knew Cragen had on the wall in his office. They were goofing off and mock-saluting in their dress uniforms.

The desk was bare except for a laptop sitting on top and a small lamp. A string of pipe-cleaners braided together hung over the lamp that she suspected had been made several years ago by one of his kids. She knew that he kept every piece of art that his children made for him and displayed it proudly.

She was back where she started, at the entrance to the living room. Her throat was starting to close, creating a panicky sensation as she glanced around again, and she was crying before she realized it.

She thought that by coming here, she could get back that spark…that gleam of hope and determination that had at one time consumed her. But it only served to bring home the agonizing reality that they were forced to confront now. They knew that the odds were almost guaranteed that they wouldn't find Elliot alive.

Olivia sobbed harder, overwhelmed suddenly by the anger and regret.

Their friendship wasn't roses and compliments; often it was clashing opinions and exhausted sniping during long hours. She didn't know the name of the high school he attended, but she knew that he listened to jazz when he couldn't fall asleep.

She didn't know what kind of cologne he liked, but she knew that he had a scar on his right wrist from being sliced by a drug-crazed suspect during an arrest. She didn't know what his singing voice sounded like, but she knew that his tone got softer the more tired he was.

She had never told him that she would do anything for him, but she had shot a man when he came a step too close to him with a weapon. She had never slept over at his house, but her pillow smelled like him when she crashed in the crib.

They had never gone to dinner together, but they shared sandwiches at lunchtime. He didn't know the name of her last date, but did know that her middle name was misspelled on her birth certificate. He didn't know what color eyes her mother had, but placed roses on her grave stone every year on her birthday. He was the worst liar she had ever met and the best person she had ever known.

She would hate his guts one minute and sacrifice her life for him the next without a second thought. He would argue with her until he was blue in the face about an aspect of a case they disagreed on and then take her side when the captain confronted them about it.

If it took until her last breath, she was going to get revenge on the bastards who had taken him from her. They were going to see Hell and beyond, and then she was going to turn in her badge. She had failed him, and the job was meaningless now.

"I'm sorry, Elliot," she whispered to the empty walls surrounding her. "I'm so sorry."

**Five Weeks Earlier**

The captain faxed an all-points bulletin to the precincts within their borough, and asked them to spread the word. After four victims, he was ready to nail the scum. It didn't matter to him that only one murder could be legally tied to EJ Jones; one was enough for him.

The detectives had spent the entire day on the phones with precincts around the state that had been listed in the database as having contact with the man's associates prior to or anytime after arrest, as well as trying to find any informants that may have known any of the men.

"Guys," Don said, stepping out of his office. By quarter after eleven, they were starting to get cross-eyed and restless. "Take a break from the phones for a bit. Work on something else."

Elliot dropped the receiver into the cradle so fast that it seemed to not touch his hand. The relief on his face was easy to recognize.

"Ugh," he moaned softly, cracking his knuckles. He rolled his neck and rotated his shoulders, sliding away from the desk. "Thank you."

Olivia smirked as she reached into her basket to retrieve some files she had pushed off. She hated paperwork more than anything, but would gladly choose it over trying to talk to stuffy beat cops and being put on hold all morning.

Fin went to the coffeepot and filled a mug. Elliot glanced over when he got up and grabbed his empty mug off of the corner of his desk. He whistled and tossed it to him when Fin looked over.

"Thanks," he said as Fin filled it for him.

"How come you never do that when I ask you?" Munch complained when Fin set the mug down on Elliot's desk.

He raised an eyebrow as he sat down. His face was deadly serious when he answered. "I don't like you."

Elliot burst out laughing. Munch looked at him in disgust and rolled his eyes. Fin looked over at him, his face cracking into a grin. Olivia just rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly, her mouth turning up as she kept her gaze on her work.

The phone rang about an hour later. Olivia reached for it.

"Benson," she answered.

"Yeah, can I speak to Elliot Stabler?" a man asked.

"Sure," she replied. "Hang on."

He glanced up when she tapped on his desk with her pen. "For you," she said, handing the receiver over.

"Stabler," he answered. His face split into a grin. "Mac! Thanks for getting back so soon…uh-huh…yeah…"

"Olivia."

She turned toward the office when Don called her name. He had his head stuck out of the door. "Novak says you were supposed to be in her office ten minutes ago."

Startled, she glanced at her watch. "Shit!" she swore, leaping up. She had forgotten all about it. The captain looked at her in disapproval. "Sorry, sir," she said sheepishly. "Tell her I'm coming now."

"Great, thank you!" Elliot smacked the phone down enthusiastically and got up quickly. "That was Bob McGregor from the 5-2," he said, turning toward Don. He had an excited expression on his face. "They just apprehended a man they believe to be one of Jones' cohorts."

"Go down there," Don said immediately. "See what they've got." He remembered that Olivia had left. "John, go with him."

Another phone rang. Fin grabbed it. "Tutuola, Special Victims Unit."

The 5-2 precinct in the heart of the Bronx was loud and bustling when John and Elliot arrived. Most everyone working there was a beat cop and the squad room was full of uniforms. Some gave them suspicious glances when they walked in, but most went about their business and ignored them.

John knocked on the door to the captain's office. A tall black man opened the door and looked at them questioningly.

"Can I help you?" he said in a deep, rumbling baritone.

"Captain Williams?" John asked.

"Yes?" he answered cautiously. He eyed the two men suspiciously, blocking the doorway with his body. "Something I can do for you?"

Detectives John Munch," John said, flashing his badge and gesturing beside him to Elliot, "and Elliot Stabler…Manhattan Special Victims Unit."

The man's face cleared instantly. "Oh, yes," he said quickly, opening the door wider. "Please, come in." Elliot smiled at the man as he passed.

"Sorry…we've had a few reporters in here lately trying to get a statement about our latest case," he said ruefully. He gestured to two chairs by the desk. "Have a seat."

"That's alright, thank you," Elliot said, standing before the desk. "Sir, I got a call from Officer McGregor…"

Williams nodded quickly, cutting him off. "I know, I asked him to call," he said. "They're down in the lock-up. Go ahead."

Surprised, Elliot looked at Munch. "Thank you," he said.

**Present**

He couldn't stop the tears that continued flowing down his face. His neck was sticky from where they had been dripping on it for the past hour.

The pillowcase and that awful gag made him barely able to breathe. He tried to keep himself as relaxed as possible to avoid another panic attack…did they know he was claustrophobic? Was that why they were doing this?

What made it worse was that now he couldn't hear anything except the amplifying of his own heart pounding. At least before he could be prepared for their arrival…now he was so tense that his bones were almost cracking.

He gingerly worked the fabric around with his mouth, trying once more in hopes of getting it at least loose enough so that he could breathe comfortably. However they had this thing stuck in his mouth, it was working. Each attempt only made it pull tighter between his teeth and into the back of his throat. After his third time gagging himself, he stopped trying.

"Olivia?"

She was halfway back to her car when a girl's voice called her name. Turning around, she came face-to-face with Elizabeth Stabler. Her eyes widened immediately and she froze.

His family had been a wreck when they first found out. The squad had made sure to keep them informed of every move they made, and they all offered to talk to the children and Kathy whenever they needed it. But as the weeks passed, their platitudes became empty, and the family became distant.

Kathy had come to the station one night about two and a half weeks after his disappearance and confronted them. She had been hysterical, screaming at Olivia and asking why she didn't protect him, blaming the squad for letting this happen, cursing them all to Hell for this. She started sobbing halfway through her tirade and would have collapsed had Don not grabbed her.

He had taken her into his office to calm her down. Olivia had broken down into tears and the other two had looked absolutely devastated.

They emerged about twenty minutes later. Kathy had apologized tearfully and profusely, begging them to forgive her because her emotions had taken over her judgment. She had taken Olivia's hands and pleaded with her not to give up on him because of her, apologizing for the horrible things she had said. She had mumbled an acceptance, but hadn't spoken to the other woman again.

It hurt too much, because she had been right. It _was_ her fault. She'd had the chance to protect him and she hadn't. Now he was paying for her negligence.

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she blinked them back and forced herself to concentrate on the girl standing in front of her.

She swallowed hard. "Liz-Lizzie," she managed. "What…what are you doing here?"

The fourteen-year old was looking at the ground, chewing her lip. In the back of her mind, Olivia found herself amazed by how grown-up she was. It seemed like yesterday she was six years old, and now she was almost as tall as Olivia was.

After a minute, Lizzie looked up. "I come here all the time," she said softly.

The detective part of Olivia's brain automatically began questioning how in fact this girl, who wasn't old enough to drive and had no means of transportation as far as she could see around, made it here as often as she claimed. But she knew that now was not the time to ask such mundane questions.

It was impossible not to recognize that she was struggling to hold in her emotions. As far as looks went, Elizabeth resembled her mother more; her hair wasn't as light as her sisters' and her eyes were more of a blue-green. But certain expressions and the way she carried herself were a direct replica of Elliot. Her eyes were slightly squinted and her jaw was set in the same way his so often was when he was intensely focused.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked gently.

She swallowed hard, beginning to wander to the left. "I don't go inside," she said. She sat down on the small bench that was surrounded by flowers. "I sit here all the time." Her voice was wavering. "I tell him about my day and the stupid jokes that Bobby Dean tells at lunch and…."

Tears began coming down her face. "And about how I pray for him at night and how…how…I'm sorry for all the times I was a brat and…that…that I love him…so much…"

She suddenly burst into sobs and turned away. Olivia felt her heart breaking again, but fought to keep her emotions in check as she came to the bench and sat down gently.

"Liz," she said softly.

She carefully reached over and took the girl's hand in hers. As soon as she did, Elizabeth turned and unexpectedly fell against her chest, sobbing into her coat.

"It's going to be alright, honey," she said, hearing tears creeping into her own voice. She rubbed her back gently. "I promise."

"Why would anyone want to hurt my dad, Olivia?" Lizzie said painfully. "He never did anything to anyone!"

She was startled when Lizzie broke out of her grasp and stood up. Her fists were balled into fists and she began to scream up at the sky.

"Why are You doing this?" she yelled. "_WHY?_ How could You let someone hurt my dad? _How could You?_"

"Lizzie," she said firmly, getting to her feet.

The distraught girl only began screaming louder, her voice becoming hysterical. "_You said You'd never forsake us! Why won't You help him? WHY WON'T YOU HELP HIM?" _

"Elizabeth!"

Olivia grabbed her from behind and turned her around, pulling her tight against her. She fought and pushed at her, screaming in rage, but Olivia kept her grip firm and didn't let go. After a minute, Lizzie collapsed against her and began crying in agony.

"I want him to come home, Olivia," she sobbed. "I want him here with me."

The restraint broke and Olivia began to cry too, hugging her tightly. "I know," she said. "I do too, honey." She sobbed. "I do too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Please know that I am not trying to confuse you on purpose. I have tried so many times to separate the scenes with a border of some kind and every time I upload it to the site, the effect doesn't show up. I have ripped my hair out over this to the point of almost needing plugs! Anyone know of a way to help…or a good plastic surgeon? **

**Five Weeks Earlier**

"Yo, McGregor!"

Officer Bob McGregor looked over at the guard's call with his eyebrows raised.

The guard turned to the two detectives. "Over there," he said briskly, and then continued down the hall without giving them a chance to say anything.

Munch scowled at the brusque attitude and walked toward the man in the officer's uniform. Elliot grinned at his reaction to the guard and kept pace beside him without speaking.

"Officer McGregor?" John asked.

"Yeah, who's asking?" the middle-aged man said, eyeing Munch suspiciously.

Elliot shook his head with a chuckle. "Mac," he scolded, stepping around John.

McGregor's expression cleared instantly when he saw his old friend. "Elliot!" he said. "How's it going, buddy?" He reached out with his knuckles for a "soul shake".

Grinning, Elliot touched his fists with his own. "Not too bad, man," he said. He gestured. "Mac, this is Detective John Munch, from my unit."

John raised his eyebrows in amusement. _**His** unit?_

"How you doing?" he said, offering his hand to the officer.

Bob shook it quickly. "Hey, sorry about that, man," he apologized. His expression was bewildered as he withdrew his hand. "You wouldn't **believe** all the shit we've had today from the press. Bunch of animals, those guys, I'm telling you!"

"Yeah, your captain mentioned that," Elliot said, puzzled. "What's going on?"

He shook his head. "Jack Preston's got himself a rookie, fresh out of the academy-" He turned to John suddenly, remembering that he didn't know who he was talking about, and elaborated, "He joined the squad a few months before Elliot got transferred to Homicide." John nodded.

"A rookie!" Elliot burst out laughingly, cutting him off as he picked up again. "Good God…I bet he blew a fuse over that one!"

"You have no idea," McGregor said wryly. "Yeah…so they were responding to an assault in progress over on 100th and 7th last Wednesday and the kid ended up shooting an unarmed civilian on accident." He shook his head as the two men pulled horrified expressions. "IAB's been all over us, especially Jack…like it's his fault the idiot-"

"Hey, Mac!" an irritated voice called out suddenly, startling them. "You mind saving the girl talk for later and getting the fuck in here so we can do this?"

Bob grimaced. "Yeah, sorry," he said. He gestured to the detectives to follow him down the hall.

Most of the cells in the general lockup were unoccupied, and the ones that weren't had maybe three altogether at most.

"Slow day, huh?" Munch remarked as they passed.

McGregor gave him a look as he stopped in front of another cell where a second officer was waiting with an impatient expression. Elliot set his jaw when he saw the man in cuffs sitting at the table inside and focused on what he was doing.

"Detectives Stabler and Munch," Bob said quickly, gesturing. "Officer James Pierce."

Pierce nodded to them curtly. "Ready?" he asked. Mac nodded and Pierce gestured to the guard standing by the door.

The keys inside the lock echoed in the large space and the sound of the door sliding open was so loud that Elliot had to fight the urge to flinch. The lockup in the 1-6 was just one large cell, used mostly for suspects when they first got collared. This place felt like it was straight out of "The Silence of the Lambs" or something. He almost looked around to see if there was anyone wearing a straight jacket and a mouth guard.

The man at the table looked pissed as he watched them walk inside. "Oh, boy," he said sarcastically, his eyes flickering over the two newcomers. "More pigs. Makes me wish I had a spit and some firewood." The handcuffs attaching him to the chair he sat in clanked as he shifted position.

"Cute," Pierce said humorlessly. He knocked the man's feet from where he had them in a reclining position on the table with a swift swipe of his arm. "These are Detectives Stabler and Munch."

The man eyed them hatefully. "Munch?" he cracked. "Man, God must hate you."

"Says the man sitting in a lockup wearing handcuffs," John responded dryly without missing a beat.

The man sneered at him, but didn't say anything else.

"Detectives," Pierce continued, ignoring the man completely. "Do you want us to take the lead, or would you rather us wait outside?"

John and Elliot exchanged glances. "Whichever is more comfortable for you guys," John said finally. "We just have a few questions."

McGregor nodded. "Go ahead with your questions, Detective," he said. With a nod at Pierce, the two men moved to the side and stood against the wall, giving them the okay.

Elliot began rolling up his sleeves. John raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. He sat in the chair in front of the suspect, leaving the one beside him for Elliot.

The man watched Elliot with amusement. "Ooh….gonna get rough with me?" he smirked.

Elliot flashed him a vicious grin that lasted only a split second but had a world's worth of intent behind it as he made himself comfortable in the chair. John looked at him meaningfully and he raised his eyebrows innocently. Pierce looked at McGregor in alarm, but he just shook his head, obviously used to his tactics.

"Mr. Evans," Munch began, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "Is it alright if I call you Mr. Evans?"

"Whatever," he said, obviously amused by the whole situation.

"Mr. Evans," he repeated. "How well do you know Ethan Jones?"

Evans raised his eyebrows and glanced at Elliot with a smirk before turning his attention back to Munch. "Who?"

"Mr. Evans," he continued, trying not to lose his patience at the deliberate smartness. "When was the last time you spoke to him?"

Evans rolled his head toward the ceiling dramatically and sighed long and hard.

"Well…" he drawled. "That depends on who you're referring to." He grinned at John cunningly, gesturing towards the two officers. "Mutt and Jeff come by every once in a while…God speaks to me in my dreams sometimes…"

Elliot was clenching his teeth in frustration at this guy's smart-ass comments already and they had only asked two questions.

"You shared a cell with Jones during your stay in Attica," John said. "Word is that you two became pretty close." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that true, Mr. Evans? Were you close?"

Evans smirked and said nothing.

"Oh, they were close," Elliot said finally, unable to hold his tongue anymore. The little shit was so cocky it made him want to slap him. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, and smiled.

His voice dropped to a low tone, almost inaudible to Pierce and McGregor. "I bet you were more than close, huh, Evans?" He looked at him with a predatory smile. "I can tell just looking at you…you were his bitch."

"Fuck off," Evans said smartly, but his smile evaporated.

"You were more than his bitch," he went on, cutting him off. "You sucked his cock every day. You begged him like a little girl to suck his cock." His voice rose to a high-pitch, mocking Evans. "'Please, please….let me, sir, let me."

John eyed Elliot warningly but he kept right on going. "Do you say his name when you orgasm, Evans?" he asked, his voice returning to the deadly low pitch again. "Do you picture him when you're masturbating, huh? What's wrong, Jason? Too embarrassed to admit you've got a thing for guys, you sick piece of crap?"

In one swift move, Evans brought his handcuffed hands up and slammed them down hard on the table, leaning in close to Elliot's face. McGregor pushed away from the wall with an anxious expression, but Elliot held up a hand to stop him without taking his eyes away from the convict.

Knock it off," Munch snapped, leaning around Elliot and forcing Evans to look in his face. "You listen to me, you little prick… now either you answer my questions or I'm going to have the prison doctor remove your balls without any anesthesia. You got me?"

Evans glared at Elliot hatefully and backed away, sitting down again. John shot Elliot a glare as well before repeating the question.

"When was the last time you spoke to Ethan Jones?"

**Present**

Olivia headed for the bathroom when she got off of the elevator and straight for the sink. Cupping the water in her hands, she splashed her face a few times and patted it dry with a paper towel, looking in the mirror.

She sighed hopelessly. Her face was splotchy and her eyes were puffy. It would be obvious to anyone within ten feet that she had just spent the entire ride back crying.

Throwing the paper towel away, she shook her head and walked out of the bathroom.

She'd called Kathy when she got into the car, wanting to make sure she knew where Lizzie was, and told her she was bringing her home. She stopped by a Wendy's and gotten Liz something to eat, but hadn't gotten herself anything. She wasn't in the mood for food.

She felt exhausted as she walked into the squad room. Fin was at his desk and she ducked her head as she walked by, sitting down and getting to work quickly.

He looked over at her and sighed softly. He had seen her puffy eyes the second she had walked in. Getting to his feet, he walked slowly over to her desk.

"Here."

She looked up and saw him holding a white container out to her. "Turkey on a hard roll," he said softly, meeting her bloodshot eyes. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't look away. "Extra mayo."

It took a great effort for her to take it from him. "Thanks," she said softly, setting it down on the desk. She bent her head and began writing again.

"Liv," he said desperately. "Eat it. Please….please eat something."

His tone startled her and made her look up again. He looked at her imploringly and she suddenly saw lines around his eyes that she had never, ever seen before. Fin Tutuola was never anything but hard and tough. The man standing beside her now was at the end of his rope and it scared her to see.

Biting her lip, she sighed shakily. "Alright," she whispered. "Alright, Fin. I'll eat it." She tried for a reassuring smile. "Thank you."

He didn't move and stared at her intently, obviously wanting to see her do it. She opened the carton and took out the sandwich, taking a bite. She raised her eyebrows as she chewed to see if he was satisfied.

She was surprised when he leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. "I don't want to lose you too," he whispered. Before she could ask what he meant, he had walked away quickly.

Because he could barely draw a breath without gagging, his screams were buried deep inside his throat, desperate to escape but unable to. He squirmed and thrashed as hard as he could, but the weight pressing him down was so great that he knew there had to be more than one person holding him.

The man grinned at his comrades as they kept a firm hold on Elliot's body, forcing his legs to stay apart. He gripped the cigarette lighter tighter and continued to guide the flame up and down the length of his penis.

The pain became so excruciating that he began choking himself. Tears flooded the inside of the pillowcase and began soaking his scalp as they rolled off the fabric.

**Five Weeks Earlier**

"You know where he is, damn it!" Pierce smacked the table in anger. "Tell us. **Tell** us where he is!"

"Ooh…such anger issues with the NYPD," Evans said, smirking. "Is this how you question all of your suspects, officer? By yelling like a two year-old?"

"We're done," McGregor said in disgust, shoving away from the table. He walked up the bars. "Guard!"

Pierce sighed as the door was unlocked. "Take him back to his cell," he said to the guard, striding out. McGregor glared at Evans and followed.

The guards came in and uncuffed him from the table, forcing him to stand and handcuffing his hands again. Evans smirked at the two detectives as they stood watching.

"You're a real idiot, Evans," Elliot said. He shook his head. "You could have gotten a reduced sentence. What the hell are you protecting Jones for, huh? He's a piece of shit…you think he gives a flying **fuck** about you?"

Evans stopped walking abruptly, turning his head back toward them as the guards were leading him out. "You know, you've got an awful lot to say about me and my friends, Detective," he said, eyeing Elliot up and down. "You might want to be careful…you never know who may be listening."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot asked challengingly, going over to him.

Evans smiled coldly and shrugged casually. "Nothing," he said. He grinned at them as the guards dragged him out.

Elliot saw Munch looking at him angrily as he stalked out of the cell. "What?" he asked, catching up with him.

"You know, once in a while its ok for you to just sit back and listen, Elliot," John snapped.

"Oh, please, John," he spat out. "No one else in there was trying to get anything from this guy. I can-"

"Damn it, Elliot!" He was startled when Munch turned abruptly and got into his personal space. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just **maybe,** someone else may have a better way of getting information besides insulting and threatening?"

He scoffed and turned away, seeming to completely ignore the steely glare in Elliot's eyes. "Oh, right, I forgot…no one can ever do it better than Master Stabler."

"Fuck you, John!" Elliot said angrily, reaching out and wrenching his elbow to force him to stop walking. "I never said I was any better than anyone-"

"You don't have to **say** it, Elliot," John spat out, jerking his arm out of his grip. His eyes were glinting with anger, something Elliot had never seen before. "It's all in how you present yourself….strutting into the room, rolling up the sleeves, narrowing the eyes…" His lip curled up in anger. "You think you're the god damned diva of the NYPD."

He saw the shock explode in Elliot's eyes before he glared at him hatefully. "You're an asshole," he seethed, but couldn't get any other words out.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?" John goaded with raised eyebrows. He hadn't meant to open the can of worms, but once he had, all the built-up frustration with his friend over the past seven years came tumbling out.

Elliot had his teeth clenched so tight that they almost cracked. "Fuck…you," he growled again. Turning on his heel, he stormed away from John toward the other end of the precinct.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Five Weeks Earlier**

Elliot walked into the squad room scowling and stalked over to his desk. Olivia looked at him questioningly, but he didn't even glance at her. He snatched a file from his inbox and flipped it over, scribbling furiously with his teeth clenched.

She looked over to Fin, who raised her eyebrows in surprise. Cragen, who had seen him arrive through the window to his office, came out into the doorway.

"Elliot?" he asked with a no-nonsense tone. "Is there a problem?"

He didn't skip a beat in his writing. "Nope," he replied coolly.

Cragen looked around, remembering that he had sent two out. "Where's John?"

"Who cares?" he answered, flipping the page without looking up.

Olivia's eyebrows shot up again and she automatically glanced over at the captain. He had tightened his jaw and folded his arms. She instinctively winced. _Shit._

"Excuse me, Detective?" he asked icily, staring at him with a menacing expression.

Elliot heard the authoritative note in his boss' voice and huffed almost silently. He clenched his teeth and turned toward him.

"I don't know where Detective Munch is, Captain," he said almost forcibly. "We left separately."

There was obviously more to it than that and they all knew it. Olivia discreetly observed her partner biting the side of his cheek before daring a quick glance up to see the captain's reaction.

As if on cue, the doors opened again and John came inside. Don saw Elliot shoot him a look that could have frozen fire before quickly ducking his head back to his work.

Munch strode past Elliot's side of the desk without a glance in his direction. From the lack of conversation and the way they had all looked at him when he came in, he knew that they knew something was up.

He waited for Cragen to call them out, like he always did when someone was having a beef with someone else, but the captain said nothing. He simply pursed his lips thoughtfully and went inside his office.

**Present**

Fin pulled out his cell phone as he was turning off of the highway and dialed his partner's number. He listened to it ring, slowing once he approached his neighborhood.

He sighed in irritation after the twelfth ring and shook his head when there he finally heard the _click_. His headlights bathed the garage door as he pulled into the driveway, listening to the prerecorded answering machine message.

_Beep._

"Hey," he said, shutting the ignition off. He trailed off, suddenly not able to remember why it was he was calling in the first place, and sighed. "Look…this isn't going to help anything. Avoiding it won't change this, man."

The frustration was evident in his voice and he sighed again.

"Listen." His voice softened. "I know you're torn up over what happened with you and Elliot…" He paused. "You can't do this. You can't go down a shame spiral now. We **need** you, John….he needs you." Anger began creeping into his throat and he fought it as hard as he could. "God damn it, this is his **life** we're dealing with! Don't you understand that? While you're at home hiding from it, he's out there-"

His voice broke and the sentence savagely broke off. He took a deep breath to get back his composure, angry with himself for losing it. He closed his eyes and sighed tiredly.

"Come back to the squad, John," he said, his voice soft with weariness. "Please….if we don't pull this together…" He choked up suddenly. "We can't give up on him…we can't. Until we find a body, he's still out there, and he's waiting for us. I know you…you're too good of a man to leave a friend. Don't let him down now. He needs you."

Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Fin rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn't intended to spill his guts, but hadn't been able to stop once he got started. "Alright, well…whenever you decide to come back…you've still got a partner. Goodnight, John."

He flipped the phone closed slowly and sighed again before opening the car door. His heart was heavy as he trudged toward his front steps.

John listened as his partner's voice faded away and the answering machine went silent. The horseshoe-sized lump in his throat made it difficult to draw a breath as he leaned back against the couch cushions.

Warm tears began sliding down his cheeks and the pain in his heart only made them fall faster as he continued to sit motionless in the darkness of his apartment.

**Four and a Half Weeks Earlier**

They were back to square one. Jason Evans was having a field day because he knew that they had nothing except for his word to find out where Jones was, and no other precincts had any information as of yet.

Whatever had happened between John and Elliot hadn't been resolved. The captain had eventually called them into his office and tried to get to the bottom of it, but to his surprise they were both resistant to talk about it.

Olivia and Fin hadn't been let in on the situation either. The two men only spoke when absolutely necessary and made a point to avoid each other whenever possible.

Four days after the incident, the squad received a request from Queens SVU for information about a case they had worked three months earlier. It had absolutely nothing to do with the latest case, and Cragen jumped on it immediately to give his detectives something else to focus on for the moment.

Don stared out of his office at the four of them and shook his head. Each desk had a box of files on the case between them, and each detective was flipping through a folder or writing silently. He didn't think he had ever seen them so quiet before.

The phone rang. He shook his head again and turned his attention to it.

"Cragen," he answered.

"Captain, it's Melinda Warner," she said. "I have some new information about your unidentified rapists."

"I'm all ears," he said, sitting back in his chair.

Melinda studied the lab printout in her hand with a furrowed brow as she spoke. "The DNA from the wood sliver matched to Ethan Jones," she began. "We managed to lift it from a tiny amount of semen that we were able to locate on the wood."

"Right," he confirmed.

"The lab techs up in Rochester were the ones who analyzed it," she continued. "Someone there just contacted me about twenty minutes ago…they missed something."

Don sat up straighter.

"Their initial attempt was a screening for excretory fluids, which they obviously found, and since they weren't able to lift anything else, they assumed it was all from the same source," she said. "But yesterday, they ran it through another system screening for body fluids and discovered saliva."

Cragen scrunched his face immediately. "Saliva?" he repeated. "On the…wood sliver?" He paused, unsure of whether or not to say what was on his mind. _What the hell._ "How is that possible?"

"I have my own theory on that, actually," she said. "But you should know the rest first."

"Sure," he agreed.

"The 2nd victim that you guys found….Homicide called you for that, correct?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Olivia mentioned one of the officers suggested that the victim had more than one attacker," she said. "Captain, the autopsy showed six different skin fragments under the victim's nails."

His eyes widened in shock. "So there were six attackers?"

"There were six attackers," she repeated. "And guess who one of them is."

He clenched his fists and swore. "Jones."

"Congratulations and thanks for playing," she said wryly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A whistle pierced through the air.

"EJ!" someone called out.

Ethan Jones looked over from where he was sprawled on the dirty couch smoking a cigarette. Matt Lucas came over with a cordless phone in his hand. He sighed and took it.

"What?" he asked in irritation.

"Some pigs were down here asking about you," the voice said.

He sighed in boredom and flicked an ash on the floor. "Is that why you're calling me?" he asked. "Do you **know** how many pigs I dick with on a regular basis, Charlie? Don't waste my time."

"No, hey!" Charlie cried as he was about to hang up. "This is good."

Rolling his eyes, he flopped backward and sighed. "Please, enlighten me," he said sarcastically.

"Two uniforms came down here and took Evans down to the holding cell," he said. "I went down to the gym and just happened to "overhear" them." He grinned.

"And?" Jones snapped impatiently.

"Two more guys came down here, not uniforms," he said. "I'm guessing FBI, but I don't really know. They started asking Evans about you."

EJ sat up straight. "Did that prick say anything?" he growled.

"Naw," Charlie said. "You know he wouldn't do that to you, E."

"What kind of questions?" he asked.

"When he last talked to you, how he knew you," Charlie answered. "Boring shit, that's all."

Jones' eyes narrowed. "Is that right?" he asked. He paused. "So Evans didn't say anything…not even a word." His voice came out as a growl. "You know what will happen if you lie to me."

"No, I swear!" Charlie cried quickly. "He's cool, man. Honest. He didn't say a thing." He paused. "But, listen, man…that's not why I called. One of those cops, the ones who were questioning him? He said some really nasty shit about you."

Jones set his jaw. "Really."

"Yeah," he said. "Talking about Evans bein' your bitch, saying he begged to suck you off. Said you were scum and that he's an idiot not to give you up. Real cavalier asshole."

"You get his name?" Jones asked.

"Elliot," he replied. "Don't know if it's first or last, but the other cops all called him Elliot. And they mentioned he used to work with some guy named Jack Preston before transferring to Homicide."

Jones was silent for a minute. "Alright," he said finally. "Thanks, Charlie. Get off the phone before they make you clean the toilet with a toothbrush again."

"Fuck you," he said, and promptly hung up, just as the guard yelled that his time was up.

Setting the phone down, Jones angrily flicked his cigarette to the wood floor and squished it roughly under his boot.

"What did the rat want?" Lucas asked sarcastically. "Begging for bail money again?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "No," he said softly. He looked over at his friend with a hard expression. "He had something much more interesting to say this time."

**Present**

Elliot was startled out of a restless sleep when he heard muffled voices. He jumped reflexively and his muscles tightened as he lay rigid in anticipation.

The cotton that was in his throat was suddenly yanked away, making him gag and gasp in surprise. He swallowed hard instinctively.

The pillowcase was jerked off quickly and he slammed his eyes shut in pain at the blinding intrusion of light into his over sensitized eyes. He heard the familiar voices of his captors and his heart sank.

"Open your eyes, you bastard," someone said.

Picking up a fistful of sand, he threw it into Elliot's face, making him yelp and squeeze his eyes shut again. He heard laughter as his eyes welled up defensively against the pain of the sand.

Tears rolled down his cheeks from the stinging when he was finally able to venture his eyes open, and he blinked rapidly to try and clear them.

He heard the now-familiar sound of jeans being unzipped and bile rose in his throat.

"Come on, Jeff," someone was moaning. "Man, come on!"

"Hold on a minute!" the voice snapped again.

The man belonging to the voice leaned down and wrapped his hands around Elliot's throat, squeezing hard. He gasped and his eyes flew wide. The man got right into his face. His breath was stale and his growl was fierce.

"Keep your eyes open," he growled to him. "Or I'll cut them out."

He jerked his throat free and brandished a knife from his pocket, holding it up against Elliot's left eyelid. Elliot began to tremble hard, unable to stop the tears from sliding slowly down his face.

He nodded to a red-haired man, who got down on his knees in front of Elliot.

"Hey!" The man holding the knife slapped him roughly across the face, startling him. The pressure against his eye got worse. "Don't look at me, mother fucker! Look at HIM!"

His terrified gaze left the knife and landed on the man in front of him. The man smiled.

"Yeah, that's right," he said, grinning. "Look at me, asshole." He began crawling up the sand toward his face. "Don't you ever forget who's in control, fucker."

His erection was huge and painful-looking. Elliot whimpered and tried to turn his head away, yelling when two other men came to assist the third in holding him still.

The red-haired man laughed. "Open up his mouth, boys."

_No, no, no, no…please Jesus, no! _Elliot squirmed as hard as he ever had before, beginning to see white spots around his eyes. _Don't let them…don't let them…don't let them…_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia had been lying in bed staring at the clock for exactly four hours and twelve minutes when the thunderstorm began. The loud boom told her that it was right over the city. Her prediction was confirmed when the rain began pounding steadily against the bedroom window. Sighing, she pushed the covers back and stood to her feet.

She padded into the kitchen and sighed heavily as she reached into the cabinet for a glass. She groaned when she saw the bare shelf, forgetting that she had been putting off doing dishes for a long time, and stood on her tip toes to reach back inside.

Just as her fingers grazed one of the last glasses she had left, she caught sight of a small bottle of tequila and froze in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her ears as she found herself abandoning the glass and reaching for it unconsciously.

The dust on the label told how long it had been there. She didn't even remember when or why she had put it there.

Her mind began racing with all of the promises she had made herself over the course of her life. She was never going to be like her mother. She was never going to use alcohol to solve her problems. It wouldn't make anything go away.

Then her mind went to the day she had graduated from the police academy. She had stood beside the class of one hundred other graduates and sworn the officer's oath.

"_I will act with regard for the welfare of others. I will faithfully obey the orders of my superiors and will be ready to confront danger in the line of duty"_

The portion of the oath popped into her mind instantly. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked them back, determined not to fall apart.

"_Olivia, meet Elliot Stabler. Elliot, this is Olivia Benson. You two are teaming up. Elliot, I trust you will show her the ropes around here."_

_He smiled at her and gave a small, friendly wink. "Yes, sir," he said to Cragen. "Nice to meet you, Olivia."_

_She smiled. "Likewise."_

She shook her head as the tears won and began sliding down her face. "Fuck you, Jose Cuervo," she mumbled.

Pulling off the top, she lifted the bottle to her lips and chugged. Another boom of thunder sounded and the tears began coming faster until she was suddenly sobbing.

_Is he safely inside right now? Are they keeping him warm? Do they know that he always felt nauseous when he watches the rain falling? _

She hunched over against the counter, sobbing so hard that she couldn't breathe, and let the bottle fall from her hands. It smashed to the floor.

**Four and a Half Weeks Earlier**

The phone rang and Olivia reached for it.

"Benson," she said, continuing to fill out her portion of the report they were working on for Queens SVU.

"Hello," a man said uneasily. "Um…is there….may-may I speak to Detective Elliot please?"

She glanced up at her partner with a furrowed brow. "Do you mean Detective Stabler?" she asked.

His head came up when he heard his name and he looked at her questioningly. She held up one finger, indicating for him to wait a minute.

The man on the other end was tripping on his words nervously. "Um-I…" he said awkwardly. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I have something here from the Queens county police that says I need to contact a detective by the name of Elliot."

Olivia took pity on the caller, figuring by his voice that he was new. She knew when he said "Queens" that he was most likely looking for her partner.

"Detective Stabler's first name is Elliot," she said, receiving another puzzled look from across the desk. "That's probably who they mean. Here, hold on a minute."

"Thank you," the man said.

She handed the phone across the desk, smiling at the cautious look he was giving her.

"This is Detective Stabler," he answered.

"Um-hi," the man said. "I'm sorry about the confusion…um-they just told me to get in touch with a detective named Elliot…I assumed it was a last name. Sorry."

"That's alright," he said. "How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry… I'm Officer Earl Bryant," the man said. Elliot didn't recognize the name. "From the Queens county police department. Jack wanted me to get in touch with you."

His expression cleared and he grinned. This must be the famous rookie partner he had heard so much about. "Yes," he said. "So you're Jack's partner then?"

"Yes, sir," he replied somewhat guardedly.

Elliot chuckled. "I was his partner when I was there," he said. "Don't let him try to scare you. He's a big softie deep down."

Bryant chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Um, the reason I'm calling, sir…"

"Yes," Elliot said, sitting up straighter to pay attention better.

"We found the body of a woman this morning that looked to have an "S" carved into her back," he said.

He froze instantly. "Oh, God," he murmured. He would bet his savings that it wasn't an "S"…that it was a "5".

"And Jack said that your squad has been working a case with similar victims and that's why we should call you after we-"

"Where is it?" he interrupted softly.

"In a warehouse," Bryant said, sounding relieved not to have to explain any further. "1723 East 22nd Avenue."

"Alright," he answered heavily. "Thank you, Officer. We'll get right on it."

The phone disconnected. Matt Lucas grinned and tossed the cordless receiver to Jones. "Easy as pie," he said. "Tell him to go ahead."

Jones dialed another number and waited for it to be picked up. "Jeff," he said. "Go ahead. 1723 East 22nd Avenue."

"Got it," he confirmed. "Which one is he again?"

"He's got a female partner," he said. "That's all I know."

"No problem," Jeff said smugly, grinning. He nodded to the driver as the van pulled out into the street. "We'll be seeing you in about an hour."

Olivia looked at him quizzically when he hung up, sighing heavily. "What's up?"

He looked at her and shook his head gently. "Queens PD found victim number five."

Her eyes widened in horror as he got up to go relay the news to the captain.

**Present**

Don jumped out of sleep when the phone rang. He blearily rubbed his eyes and reached for it.

"Hello," he said groggily, glancing at the clock.

After a minute, he sat up so fast that he nearly fell off the bed. His heart leaped into his mouth and he felt like he was going to puke.

"Oh, Jesus," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Jesus."

His hand began to shake as the officer relayed the rest of the information. When he finished, Don hung up without a word and sat still. Tears made their way out before he knew it.

Shakily, he dialed another number.

Olivia lifted her face off of the pillow and turned toward the phone in irritation. It seemed like she had just gotten to sleep.

"Hello," she said.

"Olivia."

The broken voice of the captain made her heart race and she instantly sat up. "What happened?" she asked hesitantly.

He gulped. "Brook-Brooklyn Homicide just called," he said shakily. "They found a body next to the subway line about ten minutes ago." He sobbed suddenly, surprising her. "A male…with the number "6" carved in his chest."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

A piercing scream cut through the air suddenly and made the officers standing nearby jump. Two of them ran toward the yellow tape at once, and after a minute the others followed.

Fin darted quickly and caught Olivia as she was stumbling backwards. She collapsed against him and he clutched her tightly, pulling her into an embrace as she began to sob hysterically. He buried his face in her hair and began sobbing with her.

John ducked around the officers heading for them and ran toward the other end of the subway terminal. He fell to his knees and began to puke violently, his body shaking.

Don came sprinting toward them. He had heard the scream as he was getting out of his car. His heart jumped when he saw Fin and Olivia.

"What happened?" he asked frantically, coming up beside them.

Fin looked up with tears running down his face. After a minute, he moved one hand from where it was locked around Olivia's back. Don saw that he had something in his shaking fingers and he reached for it.

His stomach dropped to his feet when he turned over the small piece of vinyl and saw Elliot's photo ID. He yelled out wildly and dropped it onto the wet concrete.

Turning around swiftly, he began stalking toward the yellow crime scene tape. He passed Munch, in a heap by the stairs, but didn't even glance at him.

Ignoring the uniformed officers urging him not to, Don ducked under the tape and fell beside the remains of the body. Tears blurred his vision and nearly blinded him as he forced himself to search over it.

Olivia was hysterical and Fin wasn't much better while he was half-heartedly trying to comfort her through his own sobs.

Munch weakly got to his feet and began stumbling back to them. He appeared at his partner's side and gripped his shoulder tightly, almost digging his nails through the flesh. His face was as white as a sheet.

Tears coursed down Don's face as he came blindly back to where they were huddled.

"It's not him," he sobbed in relief, barely able to get the words out. "Guys, it's not him."

Fin looked up in despair. The captain swallowed hard, breathing harshly through his own tears.

"There aren't any tattoos," he said chokingly. "He doesn't have any tattoos."

John felt his knees give then and he stumbled, almost taking Fin and Olivia to the ground. "Thank you, Jesus," he whispered. "Thank you, Jesus."

Don swallowed hard and took a harsh breath. "It's not him," he said again. "It's not him."

Fin clutched his knees and breathed hard, shaking his head in relief and crying. The captain took Olivia by the shoulders and hugged her to him, running his hand over her back as she continued to sob.

"It's not him, Olivia," he whispered tearfully, closing his eyes in relief. "It's not him."

**Four and a Half Weeks Earlier**

"Benson and Stabler, go meet the Queens team at the warehouse," Cragen said as he followed Elliot out of his office. "Munch and Fin, call the 5-2. Have them put extra security on Jason Evans and then meet them. 1723 East 22nd Avenue- I believe it's an old meat-packing facility."

Olivia slipped her arms into her coat and grabbed her scarf as Elliot reached around her to grab his. He shrugged the black fleece on quickly and zipped it as they were heading out the doors.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Elliot pulled the sedan to a stop and looked around, mirroring Olivia's movements. There were no squad cars in sight near the front of the warehouse.

She met his gaze and he raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe they're on the other side?" she said questioningly.

He reached over and picked up the radio mic. "Dispatch, this is Detective Elliot Stabler, badge number 239076, Special Victims Unit," he recited. "Confirm location of-"

The sound of gunfire in the distance made him jerk his head toward the window. Olivia opened her door and pulled out her gun as he dropped the radio.

They closed the doors with practiced silence and met around the front of the car. She looked to him and he nodded toward the building.

Creeping around, they took cover on opposite sides of the entrance and got into position. Elliot looked to Olivia and waited for to nod that she was ready. A beat passed and then they simultaneously popped out with their guns aimed.

Stepping cautiously inside, they swept the area with their weapons and saw no one. Once they got further, they discovered several rooms lining one end of the area and a staircase near the back.

Olivia motioned toward the stairs. He nodded and headed to check the rooms as she crept up.

She stepped lightly, making sure that the wood didn't squeak, and kept her gun aimed. Stepping onto the landing, she gazed around into a vast, empty area that smelled strongly of sawdust.

Elliot flattened himself against the wall beside the last room and carefully popped around quickly to see inside. Once he saw that there was no immediate threat, he ventured further inside with his gun ready.

A loud squealing sound made him jump and whip around fast.

Olivia was startled by the awesomely loud screeching noise and she whirled around fast. Her heart leaped when she saw that Elliot wasn't behind her. She began flying back down the stairs as fast as she could.

The doors slid open and the men jumped out of the van as soon as it stopped.

Elliot hurried out of the room with his gun aimed. When he cleared the doorway, a man suddenly jumped in his path and caught his arm. He gasped in shock as he was flipped upside down and landed hard on the concrete floor.

She jumped off of the last step and looked around frantically. Her eyes widened when she saw five men surrounding Elliot, who was in a heap on the ground.

As she was running towards him, a sudden blur of movement in her side vision caught her attention. She whipped around to meet it, a second too late.

His gun was kicked out of his reach. A sharp pain flared in his back and he groaned as he felt himself being yanked to his feet.

Three men slammed into her. She gasped as the force drove the air from her lungs and doubled over, dropping her gun. They advanced backwards as they continued roughly pushing her. She gasped again as she lost her balance and ended up tumbling onto the stairs.

She struggled hard as two of them held her down, but they were too strong and she couldn't get them off. The third moved out of her vision and she didn't know what he was doing until she suddenly heard the sound of handcuffs snapping into place.

The men suddenly backed away and took off running in the other direction. Gasping, Olivia wrenched around and discovered that they had handcuffed her to the railing of the staircase.

"What the hell-!" she exclaimed anxiously, instantly straining against the bonds.

The sound of her partner's panicked yell made her jerk her head back around and her eyes widened immediately when she saw what was happening.

Four of the men were running towards the waiting van and opening the doors. The other four had hold of Elliot's arms and were dragging him roughly towards it. She could see him trying to plant his feet and having no success.

"ELLIOT!" she screamed, yanking hard against the handcuffs. Her wrists pinched painfully but she ignored it and pulled harder. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Jesus…Oh, Jesus!"

"Olivia!" he yelled out desperately, not able to see her past the men around him. He struggled to wrench out of their hold, but there were too many of them.

"Elliot….ELLIOT!" She yanked wildly and suddenly lost her balance, nearly breaking her wrist when she slipped hard down onto the steps. Sobs escaped when she saw the men shove him hard inside and slide the doors closed. "NO!"

The tires squealed again as the van careened out of the warehouse entrance. She anxiously looked to the license plate. Three letters were all she could make out before it disappeared from sight. She screamed and sobbed in agony as she collapsed against the railing.

**Present**

The hard blow across his face hurt so badly that he his first instinct was to scream. Only the cold steel of the knife pricking the edge of his face kept him from doing so.

"Did I not make myself CLEAR?" the red-haired man screamed. He got down and jerked his head up by the neck. "WHAT DID I SAY?"

He tried so hard not to cry, but was so terrified that he couldn't help it.

"SAY IT, ASSHOLE!" the man screamed, digging his nails hard into his neck.

He opened his mouth and stumbled with his tongue, trying to force the words out through his sobs.

"Pl-plea-se," he whispered. "Please….let-let me s-suck y-you."

"SIR!" the red-haired man screamed instantly. Wild laughter erupted around him.

He jumped and sobbed again. "S-sir," he repeated.

The man barked out a harsh laugh and shoved his hand down past Elliot's line of sight. He lifted his body up until he was on his knees and crawled up his body, straddling him hard with his knees.

He came all the way up until his penis was hanging down over Elliot's face. He sobbed and tried to turn his head away desperately, closing his eyes.

_Please let me die please let me die please let me die please let me die please let me die…_

Hands were on his face and pulling at his mouth roughly, painfully. They forced it open and yanked down, keeping their hands in place and his mouth vulnerable.

"Open your eyes," he growled throatily.

The knife sliced into his left temple and he sucked in a dry mouthful of air in shock. His eyes flew open in time to see it coming down.

The man thrusted hard until he was all the way inside and began rocking hard. Elliot began gagging and sputtering. He let out a rebel yell and began shouting, covering up the choking sounds.

"Yee-haw!" he shouted. He flung his hand up in the air and mimicked swinging a lasso around. "Ride him, cowboy!"

Wild laughter and hoots from his companions gave him more drive and he pumped harder. The ecstatic sensation began and he began grunting with each thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes," he chanted with each one. He peered down at Elliot and then back up to the others. Grinning devilishly, he looked down at him again.

"Huh…what was it that you said to me?" he said loudly, dramatically, grinning at them again. "What was it?"

He suddenly began to bellow in his face, laughing when he jumped. "I BEGGED HIM LIKE A LITTLE GIRL?" He thrusted hard again to make his point. "WHO'S BEGGING NOW, CUNT? WHO'S BEGGING NOW?"

His smile disappeared in a second and he suddenly screamed out, so shocked that he fell to the sand. "Fuck! FUCK!"

His companions looked at him in shock and alarm. "What?" someone asked.

"He bit me!" the red-haired man screamed, reaching down and cradling his member. "MOTHER FUCKER! HE BIT ME!"

Blood smeared around Elliot's mouth. He sneered and managed a triumphant smirk through his sobs.

They would kill him now. He knew it. But God damn it….at least he would die with a shred of dignity knowing he had managed to salvage something of his pride.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Four and a Half Weeks Earlier**

The phone rang, breaking Don's train of thought. Irritated, he paused in his writing and reached for it.

"Yeah," he said briskly.

"Is this Captain Donald Cragen?" the caller asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Captain, my name is Paul Manning," the caller continued. "I'm calling from the 5-2 precinct. I just spoke to a detective from your unit a little while ago about a man we are currently holding….Jason Evans?"

"Yes," Don repeated. "Is there a problem?"

"A big one, Captain," Manning said frantically. "Jason Evans has escaped our custody."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"GOD DAMN IT!" Olivia screamed painfully. She continued jerking and pulling on the metal handcuff attached to her right wrist so hard that she could feel the skin breaking. "FUCK!"

Tears were trailing down her cheeks at the thought of what could possibly be happening to Elliot at that moment. She had never seen any of the men before, but their move to incapacitate her indicated that their focus had only been on her partner.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Elliot had never felt as much terror as he did the moment he was pushed onto the floor of the van. The doors slammed shut and he felt himself lurch as it took off.

He was yanked up before he could orient himself and pressed hard into a leather seat. There was a loud ripping sound and he was jerked forward while someone taped his wrists behind his back.

Another ripping sound was heard. His eyes flew wide in surprise when he was gagged with more of the tape, but the feeling of a blindfold being slipped over his face sent him into full-blown panic.

Voices were all around him, deep and gruff. He jumped when he suddenly felt pulling on his jacket and began twisting away. Rough hands pressed him down hard and he felt something cold press in the center of his forehead.

"Sit still," a man's voice growled softly.

The distinctive cocking of a gun made him start to shake involuntarily and he froze, too terrified to even breathe the wrong way.

He swallowed hard as he felt his jacket being pulled to the side. His handcuffs, gun, and badge were jerked out of his side pockets before he was shoved back against the seat.

"Jay, stay back here," he heard someone say.

There was the sound of shuffling and what sounded like a curtain closing before it became quiet.

A weight pressed down beside him and he stiffened instantly. An arm wrapped around his neck suddenly and he began to panic, tossing his head and twisting around to get it off. The pressure only worsened until he found himself gagging.

"You've got two choices," a voice hissed at him. "You'll sit still and be quiet or I'll blow you're brains onto the floor." The cold feeling returned, pressing hard into his forehead.

He shook again and didn't make a sound, sitting stock-still.

"Good choice," the voice sneered.

The arm remained locked around his neck and the gun never left his face as they continued to travel.

**Present**

A man with long blonde hair slammed his fist hard against the granite table top in frustration and leapt off of the bar stool.

"I can't fucking take it anymore!" he growled. Spinning around, he threw a look at a group of men sitting on the couch watching a football game. "Someone go shut him up!"

The men on the couch looked at him in exasperation and each other, silently telling someone else to get up.

Another howl floated through the air.

"God damn it!" he yelled, striding through the room. He grabbed a young brown-haired man up and shoved him towards the back door. "GO!"

Laughs and gloating jeers from the other men on the couch made the young man whip around. He sneered and stuck his middle finger up at them.

"That's the way it goes, son," the blonde man said with a smirk. "Low man on the totem pole doesn't get a choice." He looked to the others and grinned. "Don't catch a cold."

"Fuck you," he muttered darkly, flinging his coat off of the closet door. He shrugged it on and zipped it up as he opened the door.

"Whoo!" someone called out as the cold wind whipped inside. "Close the door, boy! It's cold as shit out there!" They laughed again.

The young man flicked them off again as he stomped outside, slamming the door shut behind him.

He opened the gate and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked toward the beach. Paranoia had him looking around with every step as he approached. The howls drifting up from the water were loud.

The next howl made him shiver involuntarily. He had to fight the instinct to get the hell out of there. He never came down here with them. To be perfectly honest, he thought what they were doing was disgusting as shit.

He much rather preferred staying inside where it was warm and playing Playstation while they did their thing. The place was stocked with all the alcohol he could ask for.

Jesse Madison was no fool. He might not like their choice of entertainment, but hell if he wasn't going to take advantage of being free

The howls didn't stop when he waded into the water. Madison winced, coming up behind the prone figure on the ground.

He was getting ready to snap at him to shut up when the words froze on his lips. He stood in front of the man completely tongue-tied. He had to fight the sudden urge to be sick at the sight before him.

The man was stripped completely naked. His upper torso was sprawled sideways awkwardly because his hands were tied to one of the gigantic legs of the pier.

The gentle waves of the low tide occasionally washed up to his thighs, but his pelvis was completely vulnerable to the cold air.

Jesse could see the dark handle of the knife he knew that Jeff always carried protruding out slightly from the man's rectum. Blood had stained the sand below his pelvic bone.

The man's face was so pale that it looked almost grey. His whimper made the hairs on Jesse's arms stand up. His eyes were screwed shut tightly and he was shaking hard.

"Jesus," he whispered, closing his eyes. He flinched and said awkwardly, "Hey."

The man jumped violently and began whimpering, his eyes screwed tightly shut. Tears started streaming down his cheeks.

_He's afraid of you. _

The realization made him sick to his stomach and his hands starting to shake slightly. He fought to keep the tremble from his voice as he looked down on him.

"L-look," he said uneasily. "You-you really need to be quiet, okay? They…they're getting really mad."

The man tearfully howled again.

"Please," he begged, suddenly terrified. "Please, Mister…please be quiet. I'll have to gag you if you don't. I…I really don't want to do that."

The voice sounded young and scared. Elliot was startled by that. But he hurt so much that he couldn't do anything to stop himself from yelling. He took a deep breath and the pain it caused made him scream again.

Looking around in fear, Jesse spotted remnants of a grey t-shirt on the ground near him and grabbed it. Twisting it in his hands, he leaned forward and forced it into the man's mouth, flinching when he gagged. He balled it up tightly and kept shoving it in until the man couldn't move his jaw.

The man opened his eyes after he was through and Jesse was so shocked that he almost fell over. His eyes were bright blue. He looked a lot like his dad.

He ducked his head and swallowed hard. The man looked at him and began sobbing silently, his head coming back to rest on the sand. His eyes closed and he didn't fight. He just lay there and cried.

Jesse got up quickly as he felt himself starting to cry too. He stepped back onto the sand and looked back at the man.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, sobbing. "I'm so sorry."

**Four and a Half Weeks Earlier**

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Fin reached across the seatbelt and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Munch glanced over from the driver's seat and back to the road again.

"Tutuola," he answered.

"Fin," Cragen said quickly. "Jason Evans has escaped."

"_What?"_ he said, almost screeching. Munch looked over, startled. "When? We just talked to the guys down in the lock-up not fifteen minutes ago!"

"It was sometime after you guys called," Don said impatiently. "Look, I don't know exactly what happened yet, but I can't get hold of Elliot or Olivia. When you get to the warehouse, tell them I want all of you back here."

"Alright," he said.

Munch looked over when he hung up. "What?" he asked immediately.

His partner looked at him slowly, dread on his face. "Evans escaped from the 5-2."

The incredulous look that passed on John's face was the same one that Fin was wearing himself.

"Cragen doesn't know what happened," he added quickly, before his partner could say anything. "All he knows is that it happened after we called for the extra security."

Munch shook his head, clenching his teeth. He looked at the road again. "Son of a-"

"He wants us to meet Olivia and Elliot at the warehouse and all of us to go back to the house," he said. "He said he can't reach them on his phone…I'll try them."

He began dialing. John shook his head again and pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal, stunned. _How the hell did that happen?_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The van continued on in silence. The arm had eventually left it's position around his neck, probably because the owner had gotten tired, but the gun remained where it was.

The only sound Elliot heard was his own panicked breathing. Anytime he tried to make any semblance of a sound, the gun would cock and press harder.

The loud ringing startled him so much that he jumped violently and gasped. The arm was back around his throat in a flash.

"Don't make a sound," the voice growled in his ear.

Hands were reaching into his jacket again as the phone continued to ring. He closed his eyes and prayed silently.

The ringing amplified as the man pulled it out. He pulled it to him and studied the faceplate as it flashed.

"Fin," he said aloud, reading the name lighting up on the caller ID.

A small choking noise escaped Elliot's throat. _Please… dear **God **make him realize something's wrong!_

He heard the phone being flipped open and began struggling wildly to make noise, praying that his friend would be able to hear it.

The phone snapped shut again and the man threw it to the side. He dove against Elliot's side and pressed his knee right into his groin, making him give a muffled yelp of pain.

"Bad idea, hot shot," the man hissed, digging his knee harder.

He picked Elliot up by the lapels of his jacket and slammed him hard against the seat before punching him over and over in the face.

"Don't," he hissed, emphasizing each word with a hard punch. "Try. That. Again."

Elliot moaned, cowering down as best he could to try and escape the raining blows. It didn't work.

"Do you understand me?" When there was no sound of acknowledgement, the man punched him hard again.

"I asked you a question, fucker!" he growled. He punched him again, seeing blood on his hand when he pulled back this time. "**Do you understand me**?"

Realizing that the man wasn't going to stop until he made some kind of sound, Elliot managed a choked whimper of pain and then braced himself for another blow. It didn't come.

Satisfied, the man leaned back again and reclaimed his tight hold around his neck. This time, he made no move to let go.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fin sighed in frustration, slamming the phone shut. "Damn it," he muttered. He heard Elliot pick up and then the phone had hung up. "God damn cell phones. These things suck."

He dialed Olivia next.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The phone lying haphazardly on the passenger seat of the Crown Victoria began to ring. The sound bounced around the empty car until it stopped a few seconds later.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Damn it!" he cursed again, slamming the phone shut.

"What?" Munch asked in annoyance, tired of the theatrics.

"Elliot's phone lost the signal, and Olivia isn't answering," Fin replied.

"Keep your pants on, will you?" his partner asked. "We'll be at the warehouse in ten minutes."

Shaking his head, Fin put the phone back into his pocket.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Their attitudes changed quickly when they got to the warehouse. They saw the lone sedan and instantly became on alert.

"Where are the others?" Munch asked ominously.

He exchanged a look with Fin as he pulled his gun. They quietly got out of the car.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I got right."

Olivia snapped her head up quickly and froze, listening hard. Was that…?

"See anything?"

She sighed in relief, almost weeping. "GUYS!" she screamed as loud as she could. She went as far as the handcuff would allow and shouted again.

Munch rolled his eyes, holstering his gun.

"Olivia, what is with you and your partner?" he asked, coming inside. "Why don't you answer-"

His eyes widened when he saw her handcuffed to the stairs. They ran to her quickly.

"Are you alright?" Fin asked immediately, as John was getting the handcuff key.

"Elliot," she gasped. John almost had to hold her down to keep her still. "Guys, they took Elliot."

John froze with the handcuff in his hand. Fin looked at her in horror.

"What?" he asked.

She rubbed her wrist, beginning to run toward the door. They had to pump to keep up.

**Present**

Olivia got as far away from the subway terminal as she could before pulling the car over to the side of the road. She threw it into park and then collapsed against the steering wheel in tears.

While on her way to the scene, she had been praying for God to forgive her; praying for Elliot to forgive her. It killed her inside…but during the ride there she was wishing that the body was his.

She wanted it to be him so that they would finally be able to give him closure from the horrible nightmare that they had forced upon him. He deserved a proper resting and they needed to give it to him. It was insignificant after all that they had done, but it had to be them. It just had to be.

But when she saw his ID, she lost it. The truth was that she _wasn't _prepared. She wasn't prepared to see her partner, her best friend in the world, murdered and thrown away like a piece of garbage, and to know that he suffered horribly before his death.

The only thing running through her mind was what if it was her fault? What if the body was his because she had prayed for it to be his?

It wasn't him; at least, they said it wasn't him. Olivia personally had her doubts. She was afraid for it to be him and afraid for it not to be him. She would look for him until the day she died if that's what it would take. But she would rather know that he was freed by death than know that he was still alive and in pain.

She began sobbing so hard that she could barely draw a breath. Elliot was such a wonderful, god-sent person….how on earth could someone be so cruel and brutal to him?

"Fucking bastards," she sobbed angrily in the quiet of the car.

They were going to pay. If he died, she was going to track each one of those men down and shove her pistol down their throats one-by-one.

A sudden rapping on her window made her jump. Looking up blearily, she saw a figure standing next to the car window. Hastily swallowing and wiping her face, she unsnapped the safety on her gun before cracking the window.

Fin stood patiently and watched her crack the window. He heard her curse when she realized who it was and waited some more. After a minute, the window came down the rest of the way.

"What do you want?" she asked irritably. Her face was wet and her nose was stuffy, but she still managed to glare at him defensively. Seeing him about to open his mouth, she snapped quickly before he could. "Don't ask me if I'm alright. God damn it, I'm not alright, and I'm _allowed_ to be not alright! He's my partner, God damn it! _I'm not alright!_"

Her sentence ended in a furious scream and she began sobbing again, shaking her head in defeat.

Fin stood silently while she screamed at him. When she was through, he slowly walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door.

She didn't look at him when he slid inside and shut the door behind him. Neither spoke as they sat. After a few minutes of tense silence, she sighed tearfully. Tears fell steadily down her face as she spoke softly. Her voice was drained and lifeless.

"Maybe they gave him a blanket to sleep with tonight," she said. She paused. "Maybe he's still wearing his big fleece coat and is too hot."

Fin looked at her sympathetically, but couldn't get his mouth to cooperate.

"Is he full, Fin? Did they give him dinner? What if his allergies act up?" she asked tearfully. "Do they know what kind of medicine to give him?" Her body shook as she sobbed.

Fin was shocked to silence. He had never seen Olivia Benson break this way before. He bit his lip to hold back his own tears.

"I hope they're keeping him warm," she said, her voice shaking. "He doesn't like the cold. He doesn't like the cold." She leaned against the steering wheel and wrapped her arms around herself, moaning over and over. "I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm sorry."

She felt arms around her and she collapsed into them, too spent to resist. She couldn't cry anymore; she just shook.

Fin didn't speak. He simply held her in silence and looked out at the darkness.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It didn't surprise John to see a car in his driveway when he got home. Fin called him every night and he never answered. Tonight was the first time he had seen him, Olivia, and Cragen in almost three weeks.

He didn't want to talk to his partner. He would inevitably try to tell him that he was acting like a baby. It was true, John wouldn't deny it. But he couldn't go to the station and face it. Like a selfish child, he was hiding from it.

He'd had no right to go off on Elliot the way he had. The man had a temper and was quite possibly the most bull-headed person he had ever encountered, but he was his friend, and a damn fine one at that. When his own ass was in a sling, Elliot never hesitated to back him up. John had seen it firsthand.

His face flushed with shame. The man had his entire world fall apart on him not six months ago when Kathy left him. He hadn't even offered to talk to him, not once, and he had been through _three _divorces.

When he pulled into the driveway, he realized that the car didn't belong to his partner after all. It belonged to Captain Cragen. He was sitting on his front porch steps, and got up at John's approach. He began walking across the grass toward the car.

Fuck. He couldn't very well back up and drive away; it was obvious he had seen him. Maybe if he sat very still, he wouldn't be seen.

_You've been watching way too much Jurassic Park, idiot._

The door opened and John stepped out slowly. He leaned against the car as Don approached, and he could see the defensiveness in his stance as he came closer.

He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let him go this time. Enough was enough. Tonight had been a reality check for them all and reminded them what they're focus was.

He stopped a few feet from where Munch stood, careful not to intrude on his personal space, and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"We need to talk, John," he said seriously.

John looked at him with a hard expression, not quite angry but definitely not inviting.

"So talk," he said harshly.

Don bit his tongue against the remark that wanted to come out and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish," he said. "But you're not doing anybody any good by sitting around and sulking."

He raised an eyebrow at the captain. "You think _I'm _not doing any good?" His eyes glittered dangerously. "Well, your hard work obviously isn't paying off, is it, Captain?"

Anger etched itself into the captain's face as he stepped forward. "At least we're trying," he said. "At least we're making an effort."

"And I'm not, that's it?" John asked angrily.

"You haven't set foot in the station in almost three weeks!" Don shouted. "I swear, John! When did you get so God damned selfish?"

Munch was momentarily stunned. The captain never cursed.

Don took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. "Look, I didn't come here to lecture you," he said quietly. "You're a grown man; you can do what you want." He shook his head. "But I honestly thought you were a better man than this."

When John didn't reply, Don shook his head again and began walking to his car.

"How can I go to the station?"

The tearful voice behind him made him stop. He slowly turned back around to face Munch. His lip was quivering slightly and he was biting it hard to stay in control. His face was as hard as stone, but his eyes were shining.

"Nothing we've done has made a difference," he said shakily. Don began slowly walking back towards him. "It's been a month and we still don't know where he is. I can't go back, Captain. I can't."

He stopped in front of his detective. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Why not?" he asked simply.

John shook his head. In the streetlight, Don saw tears slowly trail down his face.

"The last time I ever spoke to Elliot, we were fighting," he said, his voice quivering. "I said things that I knew would get him mad because he pissed me off. We weren't speaking when he…when he was…" He trailed off and fell silent.

Don took a quiet breath and closed his eyes. He knew something had happened between them, but no one ever elaborated as to what it was.

"What if he's dead?" John asked hoarsely. "What if he died thinking I was mad at him?" He suddenly sobbed, losing control. "I didn't mean it! I swear to God, if I had known-if I knew he wouldn't be-" He gulped in air. "He's my friend, Captain. I don't want him to think I'm not still his friend."

The captain didn't miss the way he kept switching from past to present tense. He chose not to acknowledge it, but inside he knew that John was still hoping Elliot was still alive. Just like all of them were.

"I never apologized," he whispered, swiping his eyes. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was…I should have apologized."

Don looked at Munch and came closer. He weighed his words carefully, knowing how dangerous they were as he said them.

"John," he said slowly. "Did your father ever apologize to you?"

His head shot up so fast it almost banged against the car window. "What?" he said edgily. Challenge was in his eyes fast. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

He began coming toward the captain defensively. "Is that supposed to be some kind of cheap shot?" he asked angrily.

Don looked at him calmly, knowing he would never hurt him. "Your father died without saying goodbye," he said, knowing because John had said it himself. "Were you angry at him for that?"

The memory of that long-ago day came back clear in John's mind and he closed his eyes.

"What if you could see him again?" Cragen continued softly. He knew he was on shaky ground. "Would you want him to apologize to you?"

He swallowed hard. After a minute, he raised his head to look at the captain. "No," he said softly. "I would want to tell him I love him and that I forgive him for what he did." He closed his eyes again, knowing the point.

The captain was silent. When John looked up again, he came and carefully put an arm around him.

"Both of you said things you didn't mean, I'm sure," he said softly. "It's not the first time, and it won't be the last." He squeezed his shoulder gently. "If the situation were reversed, what would you say to Elliot if he was doing what you're doing?"

John was silent. When he looked up, a small smile was curved on his lips. It made Cragen's heart jump.

"I'd tell him he's a jackass," he said finally. He chuckled, wiping his eyes again. The captain smiled. "I'd make him get back in the game, because he's not a quitter."

He looked at the captain sheepishly.

"That sounds like good advice," Don said lightly. He squeezed his shoulder.

John sighed. "I'll follow you back," he said quietly.

Cragen smiled and surprised him by hugging him suddenly.

"You're not a quitter, either," he said softly. "Let's get back in the game, Detective."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hysterical laughter floated out when Jesse opened the door.

"Who was it?" one of them asked, through their chuckles.

Matt shrugged. "Some guy at the ATM," he said, grinning. "Who the hell goes to the ATM at two in the morning?"

Jones had his eyes narrowed. He was the only one not smiling. "You made sure to get one that looked like him, right?"

Another man rolled his eyes. "Chill, man," he said. "Tall guy, he had brown hair, looked like he worked out…relax. By the time we finished, a grandmother could have passed for Pretty Boy out there."

Matt grinned again. "Man, it was beautiful," he said. "Snapped his neck like a fucking drumstick."

"And the number?" Jones persisted. "You got the numbers right? And the ID…you remembered the ID?"

"Relax, EJ," he snapped, annoyed. "We did everything. Those cops totally freaked out."

Jones glowered. "You better have," he said.

Matt rolled his eyes and turned toward the red-haired man. "Still sore?" He grinned.

"Fuck you," the man spat out. He shifted uncomfortably. "God damn bastard…hurts like shit."

"You got him back though," someone else said encouragingly. "Don't worry about it man….he knows who's boss now."

The red-haired man grinned despite himself. Matt's interest was piqued.

"What did you do?" he asked. Jones had sent him and the others off to take care of their business after the incident.

"He'll be singing soprano for a long time," the man said, grinning. He mimed sticking something straight up into his finger, shaped like a hole. "Right up the pipe...man, that was beautiful."

They laughed again and Jesse felt sick to his stomach.

"Hey, Madison," someone called out. He jumped slightly. The man speaking to him grinned. "Good job…it's a lot quieter now."

He smiled weakly, but all he could see in his mind was the man's blue eyes, looking at him in terror.

He shuffled towards the hallway as they began carrying on again. They were most likely drunk.

Jesse crept quietly to the very back bedroom and stepped inside. Going over to the dresser, he picked up the worn leather badge that was sitting on top.

**Elliot Stabler**

**1st Grade Detective**

**New York Police Department**

He gazed at the photo. The man had a dimple in the same spot as his dad.

He shifted the badge to get a closer look and something suddenly fluttered to the floor. He bent to pick it up and brought it to his face.

It was a photograph, slightly crinkled at the edges. The man was sitting next to a pretty blonde woman with his arm wrapped around her waist. Behind them stood two blonde teenaged girls, one with her arms around the man's neck. A little boy sat in the man's lap and a little girl in the woman's lap. They were all smiling.

_His wife and kids._

His throat closed and he almost became sick. The photo shook in his trembling hand as he swallowed hard.

Creeping over to the door, he stuck his head out and listened. No one was coming. He quietly closed the door and walked over beside the bed.

Picking up the phone, he dialed 411. He fingered the picture as it connected, biting his lip and looking anxiously at the door.

"Hello," he said quietly, when the operator picked up. He took a deep breath. "I need the number for the New York Police Department."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**I would like to especially thank those of you who are faithful reviewers, particularly tamasit1 and Jo for your great comments and critiques. You really keep me on my toes and my spirits up. This story is a very difficult one to write for me and I am quite frankly a little disappointed that I haven't gotten a lot of reviews after almost ten chapters. I really thought more would be into this. For those who are loyal readers, the story really hasn't even begun yet. Stay with me, please…and review. Thanks.**

**Four Weeks Earlier**

The doors to the squad room banged open without warning and startled everyone inside. Don looked up in alarm and immediately made his way out of his office when he saw who it was.

Kathy Stabler stalked over to Olivia's desk and slammed her hands on top.

"Four days?" she said hysterically. She looked around at the three of them angrily. "**Four…days?**" Her face was turning red. "Elliot has been missing for four days and I'm just **now** hearing about it? On the **news**, for God's sake?"

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Fin lowered his gaze. Olivia was sitting dead-still, looking into the other woman's face. Her eye was starting to twitch slightly.

"Kathy," Don said, coming up behind her.

She continued glaring at them tearfully as she turned toward him. He had never seen her so angry before.

"You...tell me what's going on, Don!" she said forcefully, stabbing a finger in his chest. "What happened? Why am I seeing his face on the news?"

He didn't respond. Kathy looked at him in disbelief and betrayal, whipping back towards the detectives. "Is it about a case?" she asked. She looked frantic now. Her words were starting to become rambles. "I've heard about people being put in Witness Protection when there's a threat or something…is that what happened?"

Still no one answered her. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at them desperately.

"Damn it!" she screamed suddenly, finally losing control. "Why won't you tell me where he is? _Tell me where he is_!"

She turned around and hugged her arms around her middle, shaking and crying. Her face burned with embarrassment.

Cragen came up to her hesitantly but didn't touch her. He looked at John.

John looked back at the captain with agony in his features. Fin bit his lip slightly and swallowed hard.

"Kathy."

Olivia finally spoke, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Don looked at her in surprise, as did the other two, but they had to guiltily admit a small amount of relief as well.

No one wanted to be the one to break the news. It was hard enough to swallow themselves.

The blonde turned toward her and was immediately on guard. Olivia looked like she was trying not to break down. Her fear began racing double time.

"What?" she asked, frightened. She suddenly noticed that the men were also holding back emotions, and it scared her even more. Striding back over to her desk, Kathy gripped the edge so tight that her hands began to tingle. "What happened? Olivia, tell me."

Olivia blew out a shaky breath through her nose and looked up at her, struggling to hold back tears.

"He-"

She choked and closed her eyes, the word breaking. Taking a shaky breath, she swallowed hard and forced her eyes open. Tears began swimming in them.

"He was taken," she whispered. "Kathy….he's been kidnapped."

Kathy froze, not moving an inch. Her face conveyed confusion, followed by shock, and then horror.

Her eyes welled up and she started to shake. "What?" she croaked. "How- that can't…"

She shook her head quickly and then stopped. Her expression slowly crumbled.

"No," she said tearfully. Sobs began hitching her chest. "Dear God….no."

**Present**

The woman leaned over and pressed the flashing button on her switchboard, keying in her mouthpiece.

"Dispatch 13," she answered automatically. "What is your emergency?"

"I…I need to talk to a cop," the young male voice said hesitantly. "It's important."

She waited for the location of the call to flash on the screen. She was shocked when the words UNAVAILABLE came up.

"What is your location, sir?" she asked.

Jesse looked toward the door anxiously again. "Look, please," he said insistently. "I need to talk to a cop!"

Furrowing her brow, the woman bit her lip. "One moment," she said after a minute.

She transferred to another line. "Dispatch 13 to Control," she said. "Caller requests to speak directly to police; no location confirmed. Assistance, over?"

After a brief pause, someone picked up. "C-Charlie 812," a man said. "Will take request, over."

Jesse blew through his cheeks quietly, nervously tapping his foot. _Come on, come on…_he prayed silently.

"This is Sergeant James Cannon," a male voice said suddenly. "How can I help you?"

"Are you-are you with the NYPD?" he asked.

Cannon frowned in confusion but recognized the panic in the young-sounding voice. "22nd Precinct, Staten Island," he confirmed. He waited a moment. "Is there something I can do for you?"

He swallowed hard. Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to hang up.

_What the hell am I doing? EJ will kill me if I tell these guys!_

The man's face flashed into his mind again. The image of his family flashed into his mind again. His father flashed into his mind again.

"Hello…sir?" the officer said. "Sir, are you still there?"

Jesse swallowed hard, nearly choking. "I…I…" he croaked.

Cannon was alarmed at the tremble in the young voice. "Sir, are you hurt?" he asked quickly. "Do you need medical assistance?"

"No….no," he stuttered. He closed his eyes and plunged in. "I'm calling about the…that cop…the one on the news."

Sergeant Cannon had to stop a minute to think about what the guy was saying.

_The cop on the…? _

He racked his brain, trying to think if he knew of any cops who'd had television interviews lately. The 11:00 news usually was desperate for stories…maybe they'd stopped someone during a routine stop today?

Puzzled, Cannon keyed the mike again.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said hesitantly. "I'm not sure what you mean. Was it on the news today?"

A frustrated sound, almost like a growl, came over the line. "I don't know…" the man said impatiently. Cannon became wary. He sounded crazed. "The-the detective! Elliot something….?"

The light bulb suddenly went off. Twisting slightly, he swiveled around toward the large poster that was tacked on the bulletin board near the door. He walked by it a thousand times a day.

**MISSING**

**New York City Detective Elliot Stabler**

**Gender: Male**

**Height: 6'0"**

**Weight: 185**

**Eyes: Blue**

**Hair: Brown**

A photo of him was underneath the description, alongside a mug shot of convicted felon Jason Evans.

**Detective Stabler was last seen on November 2nd, 2006 and is believed to be in the custody of several assailants, including an escaped felon by the name of Jason David Evans. They could possibly be driving a 1980 Dodge Ram van, color black, with A-1-P included in the license plate number. They are considered armed and dangerous.**

**All precincts are urged to be on the lookout. Any information should be directed to Captain Donald Cragen of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.**

Cannon leaned forward quickly.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Are you reporting a sighting?"

There was a long pause, so long that Cannon was afraid the man had hung up.

"Sir?" he ventured. "Are you-?"

"No-not..." the caller said hesitantly. "I mean-I…" He exhaled anxiously. "Listen, I'll tell you where he is. But….look-you…you can't say who told you, ok? They'll kill me, I'm telling you. They'll kill me."

"You're call is completely anonymous, sir," Cannon said patently. "I assure you no one will ever know that you-"

"Look, they'll know, ok?" the man snapped suddenly. "Trust me…once someone gets here the shit is going to hit the fan." He took a breath to calm himself. "I just…I can't do this….I can't watch them do this anymore."

_Sweet Mother of God._

A crushing force slammed into the sergeant's chest with the weight of a sledgehammer. It was one of the kidnappers. He was speaking to one of the mother fucking kidnappers.

_  
_His hands began to shake slightly. Panic instantly began surging through his veins and his mind began to spin.

_Why did I have to be the one to get the call? Jesus, what if I screw this up? What if I do something wrong? Dear God…please help me handle this right._

He immediately reached over and pressed the emergency assistance button under his desk to alert the others around that he needed help ASAP. Swallowing hard, he switched on the automatic recorder clumsily and turned on the electric transcriber.

"I'm ready," he said, willing his voice to be calm. "Go ahead with the information."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His head was swimming so much that he was almost seeing double. His right arm was completely asleep. Wincing, he wiggled slightly to the left.

He was reminded instantly why that wasn't a good idea. The pain rippled up from inside and tore along his nerves. He was so weak that he couldn't even scream anymore. The tears continued down his face as he shook with the agonizing intensity, and it was at that precise moment that he wished he was dead.

"Such a change from our first encounter."

The man smirked as he watched him jump, splashing water loudly, and then whimper in despair. He stepped slowly around his body until he was in front of him.

Elliot lay rigid and held his breath, quivering. The man swept his gaze up and down his body slowly, his lips curled into a sick half-smile, and traveled back up to stare into his terrified eyes.

He loved seeing that look. He dreamed about it every night and relished in the delicious sensation. If there was one thing that Jason Evans thrived on, it was creating that kind of fear. He'd been doing it his entire life.

He continued staring, grinning in delight, taking in every detail of the pathetic form in front of him.

"You thought you were so hot," he sneered. "So damn special." He chuckled. "Look at you now. Not so tough now, are you?"

Elliot looked up at him silently. After a minute, the man's smile disappeared and he got down on his knees. He began to shake harder when he saw the man hovering down over him.

Evans face was furious as he snagged his chin and jerked it upright. Elliot let out a slight whimper and quickly swallowed the rest of the sound when the man leaned down within inches of his face.

"You little fucker," he hissed. "Did you think that was funny, biting me like that?"

He slammed his hand down against Elliot's throat, startling him and making him whimper all the way.

"**Answer me, damn it!**" he screamed in rage. "**Did you think that was funny?**"

He shook his head in panicked repetition quickly, his eyes squeezed shut.

The grip remained on his throat for a minute before letting up. The man had a frighteningly hateful look on his face when Elliot opened his eyes.

"Do you have something you'd like to say to me?" he continued.

Elliot looked at him helplessly, his eyes pleading. He laughed, aware that the gag was still firmly in place, but didn't touch it. Eyes gleaming, he slammed his fist down beside Elliot's head hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and started to shake.

"Apologize," he growled.

When he got nothing, he angrily grabbed his throat and lifted him off of the ground. His eyes flew wide in surprise and fear.

"**Apologize!" **he screamed furiously in his face. "**Say it now!"**

Squeezing his eyes shut and cowering from the face inches from his, Elliot began to cry softly. He vainly attempted to speak around the cloth stuffed into his mouth and cried harder, knowing he couldn't.

Evans watched him struggle and listened to his pathetic attempts at sound for a minute with his lip curled in disgust. He threw him back down onto the sand.

"You pathetic piece of shit," he said, glaring at him. "No one makes a fool of Jason Evans. Especially not assholes like you."

He moved back until he was next to Elliot's waist. He flinched when he felt his cold hands gripping him around the thighs and began to moan desperately.

He looked back up into Elliot's face and laughed gleefully. "Payback, my friend," he said, looking back toward where his hands were positioned. "Is the bitch of life."

Cupping his hands around the penis, Evans grinned and bent his head, opening his mouth wide.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Cragen convinced John to stay home and get some sleep only after promising to call him at dawn so that he could come down to the precinct. He drove toward his house totally exhausted.

He had just pulled into his driveway when his cell phone rang.

"Cragen," he answered.

"Captain Cragen," a man said, sounding uncertain. "Donald Cragen? From the Manhattan Special Victims Unit?"

"Yes," he said wearily, rubbing his eyes and cursing whoever the hell this person was. "Who's asking?"

"Sir, this is Captain Alexander Messing from the 22nd precinct," the man said. "We've received some information about Detective Stabler that I think you'll want to hear."

Don closed his eyes. After what had just happened at the subway terminal, he couldn't take anymore.

"What is it?" he asked tiredly.

Messing looked around at the officers gathered warily and paused before speaking into the speaker phone again. "Um….you might want to come down here, sir."

"God damn it, just say it," he snapped, at the end of his rope.

Another voice came on.

"Captain Cragen," Sergeant Cannon said nervously. "Um…we've received a call from one of the kidnappers, sir."

He froze, his heart skipping a beat. Blood roared in his ears.

The officers listened to silence on the other end for a long time, looking around at each other anxiously.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes," Cragen said softly.

"Yes, sir," Messing said, coming back on. "Listen, I know-"

He was startled to get a dial tone from the other end.

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Olivia sprinted up the dark stairwell and through the doors. Her heart was pounding, her hands were shaking, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

She spotted John and Fin going in the opposite direction.

"Guys," she called.

They turned around quickly, and she saw that they looked as disheveled as she knew she did herself. The captain's call rousing them from sleep had been only fifteen minutes ago. She knew she had broken several laws in her haste over, and had no doubts that the two men stopping to wait for her had as well.

They didn't speak when she got to them. She looked at them desperately, unable to keep the fear inside anymore.

"Do…do you think-?" she began to venture softly. She was startled when Munch interrupted her.

"Don't," he said brusquely. "Don't even say it."

He began striding ahead of them, toward the radio room. Fin looked at her sympathetically, but didn't speak.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The door burst open. Captain Messing looked up quickly, startled when he saw the tall man striding toward them.

"John," Cragen called quickly.

He stopped and looked around. Locating his captain, Munch went over to him. Fin and Olivia came in a minute later.

Seeing Cragen gesturing to him, Messing abandoned the map and strode over.

"Guys, Captain Messing," he introduced quickly. He looked at him. "My detectives- John, Olivia, and Fin."

He was curt and to the point. No one commented.

"You got the address?" Fin said anxiously.

Messing nodded and turned to his desk, lifting the small paper off. "Right here," he said, offering it to him.

He took it and the other two crowded in to look quickly. Olivia was immediately defensive.

"How do you know this is legit?" she snapped.

Messing gave her a cold stare, but didn't speak. He turned back toward the desk and silently switched on the recorder.

A young man's voice filled the room and they all fell silent.

Don lowered his head, listening to the words once again. Captain Messing stood back and watched the three detectives as they listened.

"Can you prove he is there?" someone said.

Another voice came in, sounding panicked. "Look, I swear, ok?" There was the sound of fumbling. "I've got his badge right here. Elliot Stabler...1st grade detective…239076, Special Victims Unit. There's a picture inside the front pocket…him, a blonde woman, three girls, and a boy."

Olivia's face went white.

_Mother of God…_

He had just described her partner's badge completely, all the way down to the family photograph he carried in the case.

Fin had to stop himself from gasping out loud. His hands started to shake.

"What is your location?" the first voice said.

There was a pause. "132 Kroaker Lane," the young man said finally. He paused again, sounding hesitant. "It's….it's a two-story house with brick additions on both sides. There…there's a lake too."

There was another pause and the first voice came in again. "132 Kroaker Lane," it repeated. "In what city is it located?"

"Look, you can't tell them," the man suddenly burst out, sounding panicked. "Jesus…I'm a dead man…I'm a fucking dead man."

"Sir," the first voice said urgently. "Sir-"

Then the call cut off.

There was silence in the room. Messing reached over and switched off the recorder, turning back to face the detectives somberly.

Cragen looked at the three of them. They were all visibly shaking.

After a minute, Messing spoke up. "We confirmed the address," he said. "Buffalo, New York. Half-mile west of Lake Harmony." He looked at them hesitantly. "We're coordinating a GPS and maps. They should be done in about ten minutes."

When he got no response, he bit his lip and fell silent. Don looked at him apologetically and he nodded in understanding. He then turned back to his detectives.

"Guys," he said gently.

Olivia was trembling. Fin was biting his lip so hard that the skin was white. Munch had tears slowly dripping out of his glasses.

He moved closer and turned his back to the other officers.

"Guys," he repeated, looking at the three people who he thought of as his children.

Fin was the first to meet his eyes. He waited, and after a long minute, the others did too. He held each gaze steadfastly.

"We've got no other choice," he said, his voice trembling. Tears began coming from his own eyes and he didn't even realize it. The words were stuck in his throat and he struggled to say them. "We have to try."

There was a long silence before Olivia finally spoke up, sounding so weak that he almost flinched.

"What if he's dead?" she whispered brokenly.

He saw tears falling faster down John's face at her words. Biting his lip, he was startled to feel wetness on his cheeks, but didn't react.

"We…have to try," he repeated in a whisper.

He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes, and fell silent.

The detectives watched in horror as their commanding officer and the man they loved like a father broke down into quiet sobs, bowing his head.

John gulped, quickly wiping his face. Setting his jaw, he stepped forward and looked at the officers standing around the office. They all looked at him carefully, eyes sympathetic.

He became angry and didn't know why. What right did they have to look at them that way? These people had no idea what they were going through. What right did they have to even try to sympathize?

"Get the maps," he said, with a clenched jaw.

Don sniffled quickly and ducked his head, swiping at his face. He looked up at John, surprised by the action.

Munch exhaled shakily and looked at his boss and colleagues, forcing his voice to be steady.

"We've got no other choice," he repeated.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Thanks so much for your responses to the last chapter. I know it's pathetic, but I'm not too proud to beg. You probably know that by now though, right? Keep it up please! **

The radio control room was tensely silent while Captain Messing worked with five of his officers to pull up the maps.

Cragen had pulled himself together after a minute and had moved away from his detectives to sit heavily in the first unoccupied desk he saw. The officer who was working there didn't saw a word about it.

Olivia had walked out and fled toward the safety of the women's restroom. No other women were part of the team in the radio control room, so she knew she was safe from anyone coming in after her…well, for a while at least.

Fin had watched her go, looking torn. He wanted to run, too…longed to run from this. But he had only sighed wearily and leaned against one of the desks near him to wait.

Munch had stalked over to the officers and pushed his way in with them without asking. He didn't care if he couldn't physically help them. He was going to watch every move they made.

Fifteen minutes later, minutes that seemed to take years, Messing looked up at his team and nodded confirmation. They exchanged nods as well and stepped away from the desk.

Heads all zeroed in toward them the minute they moved. Everyone stood straight and the tension in the room became palpable.

"Alright, here we go," Messing said. He had several large pieces of paper in his hand. "These are the closest possible zoom-in points to the address we've got."

Cragen, Fin, and Munch closed in on him at once. The other officers allowed them through first before quietly stepping in behind them.

Hands worked together to hold the papers up for everyone to see. No one noticed or cared about whom they belonged to…anyone close to the captain immediately volunteered themselves. Seeing his officers taking control, Captain Messing stepped away.

"The first two are points of access from the closest expressway….that would be interstate 190," he said. "We've got a route that runs east and a route that runs west."

He moved on to the third. Each large sheet had a number circled on top, going in order from one to five. "The third is an eagle-eye view," he said. "If we need to, we can get an air team towards these coordinates. The last two are points of entry running through the Niagara River."

Pausing, he looked up at the team with a wry expression. "The person who called must be either ignorant or really scared, because 'the lake' he's talking about is the Niagara River. From the location of the address, the falls can't be more than ten miles away."

The detectives and officers were studying the maps intently. Cragen spoke up suddenly.

"We're taking at least one of the routes through the river," he said authoritatively. "From your coordinates, they look to be the fastest and most effective." He looked directly at Messing. "They're ours, Captain."

Messing nodded, instantly agreeable. "That's fine," he said, holding up his hands to show he was indeed on their side. "That's fine, Captain. Whatever you want, just say the word…you've got first dibs."

Don felt guilty in a second at his behavior. These guys were helping them and he was being a prick.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Please excuse me, Captain Messing."

Messing shook his head slightly. "No apologies needed," he assured. Looking to his officers, he continued, "Everyone get on the phones. Contact as many precincts as possible and get as much manpower as you can to help."

The officers nodded and turned toward the desks, stepping away from the maps.

Messing picked up a phone and turned to Cragen. "I'll contact the Aviation Unit, see if they can give us a hand," he said. "Why don't you try to get us a few police boats? If all else fails, contact the Coast Guard and tell them Captain Messing needs their help."

His tone suggested that he had worked with the Coast Guard before. Rather than question, Don reached around him and picked up another phone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Olivia?"

Snapping her eyes open, she sucked in a breath and held it. She shifted quietly from her position on the floor against the bathroom stall and listened.

John eased the door open a little more, looking around him uneasily to be sure no one was watching, and bit his lip. "Olivia? It's Munch."

He heard the sound of a door squealing and saw her walk out of a stall. Her face was dripping with tears, which she wiped with the back of her hand.

"What's up?" she asked softly, clearing her throat. She came forward out of the door and he stepped quickly out of her way.

"Captain wants you back in there," he said quietly. "We're fixing to head out soon…they got us a police boat." He looked at her cautiously. "You okay?"

She laughed humorlessly, closing her eyes and drawing a weary hand over her face. He winced.

"Yeah, dumb question," he said softly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Madison!"

Jesse jumped violently, banging his arm on the granite counter top. Startled, he focused his gaze and saw Matt looking at him quizzically from the other side.

"Huh?" he stuttered, trying to recover. "Yeah, what?"

"You watching it with us?" he asked, gesturing toward the living room behind him.

Shaking his head to clear the murkiness, he noticed that they had all conjugated around the television, on the couches and the floor. Someone was opening the DVD player.

They were as relaxed as could be, spread out on the couches and floor drinking beer. Someone busted on another and made them all laugh uproariously. Cracks and insults began flying among the laughter a minute later from others.

He shook his head again, feeling like he was watching a slow-motion video. He just couldn't process it.

They were watching a movie…a fucking _movie._ Like it was perfectly normal to have a man tied up on the beach not a hundred yards away that they were using as their personal sex slave.

He remembered what he had just done. God, he had given the cops the address. They were probably halfway there by now.

The thought made him shake. The whole thing was going to go to shit any second and he would be back in jail. That was if EJ didn't kill him first, which was a very real possibility.

_I'm a dead man. Jesus Christ…I'm a dead man!_

Matt's voice broke through his thoughts and he started again. "Huh?"

His friend looked at him like he was insane. "What's with you?" he asked. "Are you high?"

Jesse shook his head. "Naw," he declined. "I'm going to hit the sack."

The other man shrugged. "Whatever," he said. He walked back into the room with the others and plopped down on the floor. After a minute, he turned his head back up toward Jesse. "Hey, kill the lights while you're there, will you?"

His hand mechanically went to the light switch. When the light was gone, he immediately was able to see the beach out of the back door window and the man's eyes came into his mind again.

Shuddering, he took the stairs two at a time toward his room. He had to leave now before the cops arrived.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The chopper blades made a loud _whump _with each rotation. Commanding Officer Chief Joe Harmon and Deputy Inspector Toby Harris occupied the cockpit of the helicopter that was slicing through the darkness. Their entire sense of direction rested solely on the GPS transmitter resting in between the controls.

Six aviation bureaus had been able to respond to the call for assistance sent through to the Aviation Unit- Staten Island, Brooklyn North, Brooklyn South, Queens South, Manhattan North, and their unit, Bronx.

Harmon had seen many things in his years as chief, but this breached all the boundaries. Never in his career would he ever have imagined he would be part of a team searching for a kidnapped fellow officer.

But a brother in blue needed help, and he was one who didn't take that lightly. If he had the ability to help, by God, he would.

"Control to Unit B," the radio droned clearly. "Confirm flight status at this time, over."

Inspector Harris took the radio control. "Unit B to Control," he answered. He studied the coordinates in front of him. "Altitude 230 kilometers, heading due east towards Rochester." He glanced at his watch. "Current time is 3:20 am eastern standard time. Over."

After a minute, the voice replied, "Roger that, Unit B. Over."

Replacing the mic, Harris looked at Chief Harmon.

"Full speed?" he asked quietly.

The question had a world of impact behind it. Harris also felt sting of having a fellow officer in trouble. They knew without question that they had to put all they had into what they were doing.

"Yeah," Harmon answered, equally as quiet. "We're going full speed."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sirens on the police cruisers announced their urgency, but at this hour of the morning, it was unnecessary to use them.

Three patrol units from the Buffalo Police Department were speeding down Interstate 190 en route to meet four others from the Niagara Park Police.

Officer Jordan Faze had never even heard of the Niagara Park Police. When officers from Staten Island's 22nd precinct had requested their assistance in a possible suspect capture, they were directed to meet up with the other unit before heading toward the house in question. He had been one of the only ones working the graveyard shift and had been ordered by the captain to respond.

He couldn't help feeling spiteful as he made sure to keep pace with the others in front of him. He didn't understand what was so difficult about a suspect capture that required them to go all the way out to fucking Buffalo at three in the morning. Why the hell couldn't the 2-2 do it themselves?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The agile speedboat glided swiftly over water like glass, murkily dark and reflecting off the moonlight. Port Authority police officer Brian O'Hara stood on deck skillfully manning the helm as the boat reached speeds over eight miles per hour.

The large searchlight guided the way through the early morning darkness, but O'Hara knew the Niagara River so well that he could do it blindfolded if need be. Because of his experience, he was able to maneuver the craft at speeds faster than what would be considered normally safe.

Aside from the sounds of the motor and the radio beeping at regular intervals, it was eerily quiet on deck. It was unnerving to him; he was used to small talk or at least a joke here and there from his colleagues as they made their rounds.

But given the current situation they were facing, the last thing he was worried about was the atmosphere. Keeping his grip steady, O'Hara allowed his gaze to wander over the people accompanying him.

Olivia was in the seat closest to the rudder and sat facing the water. She had her arms tightly wrapped around herself in reaction to the frigid gusts of wind the boat's movement created. Her police-issue ski jacket ballooned up under her tight grip around her middle as she stared blankly at the darkness, chewing her lip.

Fin sat opposite her on the other side of the boat. He wore the same ski coat and had his hands tightly clasped between his knees as he gazed down at his shoes. He sat rigidly in the leather seat and worked his thumbs, cracking the knuckles every so often when the cold made them go numb.

Cragen sat in the passenger seat further up, next to O'Hara. He wore a long grey trench and black scarf, his bald head protected by a NYPD baseball cap. His gaze went back and forth between the GPS monitor and the water beside him. Every so often, a spray would shoot up and lightly assault his face. He was so numb that he couldn't even feel it.

John was stretched out in the very front, on the tip of the boat. His arms rested on the sides and he was gripping them tight with his fingers to keep his balance as the boat flew through the water. There was an empty seat behind Officer O'Hara, but he had instead opted for the solitude of the front. It was by far the roughest spot, every wake sent him airborne and he was nearly soaked from the boat slamming against each wave, but he wanted to be alone.

All five wore police vests under their coats and had their service pieces within reach.

"What's your location?" a voice crackled on the radio.

Bringing his eyes back, O'Hara gazed briefly at the GPS monitor as he reached for the mic. "We're about twelve miles in," he said, glancing back out at the water. "No land sighting yet."

"Keep your frequency," the voice said. "We'll get back to you."

"You got it," he responded, setting the mic back in the holder.

He switched hands on the wheel.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Small splashes had his adrenaline kicking up to full speed, but he was too weak to jump. He froze reflexively and held his breath.

After a minute, Elliot realized that it was only the water splashing against the pier.

The instinctive tensing from fright was agony on his genitals, and he began to cry again, the pain immediately resuming.

He searched through tear-filled eyes for the moon above and found that the clouds had covered it this morning.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Heads up."

The voice of Officer O'Hara interrupted the gloomy silence that had taken over the speedboat for almost an hour, and they all so tense that it startled them.

Footsteps clumped heavily and Olivia whipped her head around. Her heart began to race when she saw that the others were all standing at the tip of the boat.

Getting to her feet, she ignored the protest from her sleepy limbs and struggled to join them.

O'Hara was standing, guiding the boat with one hand and holding the radio to his ear with the other.

The second boat came into view, about fifty yards to their left.

"Got you, O'Hara," the voice on the radio said.

"Kill it," he said briskly and dropped the radio.

The officer in charge of the other boat instantly dropped the throttle, slowing to an almost standstill. The light at the front of the boat went out.

O'Hara followed suit, lowering speed and switching off the searchlight. The motor instantly quieted, the boat idling, and he whipped his head up toward the front.

"Hey, yo!" he hissed as he fiddled with the other controls. "You guys get back here."

The four of them obeyed at once, quickly coming back toward the middle of the boat. Their initial grogginess was gone in an instant and replaced with almost unbearable anticipation.

"Make sure you keep out of sight" he said. "If this guy is telling the truth, we don't want to spook them before we have a chance to get there."

Don looked to his three and nodded, silently ordering them to do as instructed from here on out. They would have to work with the team or the whole thing would fail.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Jesse quietly shut the door behind him and hurried toward the closet, digging madly through the junk until he unearthed his duffle bag.

Throwing it on the bed, he crossed over to the drawer and yanked it open quickly. He began tossing what little clothes he had with him into the bag without looking.

He swept the dresser clean of the cologne bottles, aftershave, toothpaste, and loose change that was scattered over the top, shoving it into the bag as well.

Crouching down beside the bed, he pried the loose floorboard up from where it was hidden under an old blanket and rapidly gathered up the stacks of money he had hidden there. He made damn well sure to hide it the minute they arrived so the others wouldn't know about it.

Tossing everything haphazardly in the duffle, he gave the room a quick sweep to be sure he didn't miss anything. Snapping his fingers, he went downstairs and retrieved his toothbrush from the bathroom.

He paused by the entrance to the hallway and peeked out into the living room to make sure they were all still there. Tiptoeing back upstairs, he tossed it in and zipped the bag shut.

He was jamming his feet into his sneakers when there was a knock at the door. His head whipped up just as it opened and Jeff walked in without waiting for an invitation.

"Hey, have you seen my-?" he began.

His sentence cut off as he caught sight of the duffle bag on the bed and the cleaned out bedroom. His eyes narrowed and he eyed Jesse suspiciously.

"You going somewhere?" he asked.

"Nah, man," Jesse answered quickly. He waved a casual hand toward the room behind him, hoping his face wasn't giving away how nervous he was. "Just cleaning up. This place is a shit hole."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "What's in the bag?" he asked, moving toward it.

Jesse held his breath as Jeff unzipped it and looked inside.

"Just…dirty clothes," he said, hoping he wouldn't stutter. "I'm probably going to go find a Laundromat tomorrow." He mentally crossed his fingers, willing the other man not to look underneath the thin pile of clothes.

Uninterested, Jeff shoved the bag away and turned back towards Jesse. "Whatever," he said. "I can't find my wallet…you see it lying around anywhere?"

Jesse fought to keep the huge sigh of relief from escaping. "Uh, no," he answered quickly. "Sorry. I'll keep an eye out, though."

"Do that," the other man said.

He walked out and shut the door behind him. Once he was gone, Jesse heaved a loud sigh and shook his head.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Psst," O'Hara said softly, looking behind him. He waved his hand. "Hand me that oar by your feet."

Olivia started and quickly realized he was speaking to her. Looking down, she grabbed the long end and pulled it towards him. He grabbed it and stuck it over the side quietly, shutting the engine completely off. He used the oar to propel them, shoving it into the sand underwater and pushing them toward the shore.

Once the motor died, the sounds of the wetland night became apparent. Crickets chirped in every direction and an owl hooted a few times. Olivia shivered instinctively.

No one made a sound as O'Hara kept going. After a few minutes, they felt a light bump and then the boat stopped moving.

A few miles down the river, he saw the other boat glide up onto shore as well.

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"This is Officer O'Hara," a quiet voice said through the car radio. "Both boats are on shore."

"Roger that, O'Hara," Buffalo Police Sergeant Adam Bank responded. Four other cars came into view as his partner rounded the bend and he slowed to a crawl into the gravel driveway. "Hang tight for a minute."

The car came to a stop as Bank switched frequencies to contact the other patrol cars. "Rescue boats are in position," he said into the radio. "What's the ETA on the chopper?"

An officer in one of the cars responded. "Harmon estimates six minutes," he said. "How many do we have in position?"

Another officer rang in from a second car in the drive. "Two teams on shore behind the house," he said. He looked in the rearview mirror. "Five cruisers in front….I'd say we've got enough."

Bank switched frequencies again.

"Officer O'Hara," he said. "We're in position…go ahead up the back. Give signal when ready."

"Got it," O'Hara confirmed, and pulled the radio from the holder. He placed it on his belt and turned the volume down.

He turned to face Cragen and the three detectives, who had been anxiously listening to the entire exchange.

A steely glint was in his eyes.

"Let's get it on," he said quietly, checking his piece.

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The two teams from the boats met up once they hopped quietly onto the sand and ascended up the beach toward the house. O'Hara and the detectives brought up the rear.

They moved together, feet soundlessly running and coats swishing ever-so-slightly in the wind.

Heads turned left and right at intermittent intervals, ready for danger at a moment's notice. Weapons were in hand and waiting.

The sounds of nature didn't miss a beat as they waded through murky reeds, and for that Cragen was grateful. By the sound of it, these guys were planning a surprise attack. His heart was already pumping in anticipation of kicking the shit out of the bastards.

Olivia's hand was shaking so much that she had to hold her gun in both hands as she ran, making for an awkward shooting angle should she need one. Just the knowledge that these guys had her partner somewhere in the large house in front of them had her terrified.

Fin's face was set in stone as he kept easy pace with O'Hara running beside him. His main priority was finding his friend, but that didn't stop the adrenaline rush from shooting through his body. Playing cat and mouse on an unsuspecting target was like the numerous jobs he had done in Narcotics. He was born for this kind of thing.

Munch trusted the others to warn him of any danger they may be running into. His gaze was constantly sweeping from side to side, watching for anything and everything. _Go ahead, fuckers, _he fumed silently as he ran. _Try and take us all at once. _

The group moved through a patch of reeds, past an old wooden pier, and finally reached the back gate. Instead of opening it, as that may create a noise, they launched themselves over. The gate was at most five feet tall, proving not very difficult to clear.

Once they hit the other side, the group split. Half darted around the left side of the house and half took the right side. They flattened against the brick and caught their breath, peering carefully out every so often while being careful not to set a reflection off into the glass of the back door.

O'Hara held up his fist in a hold motion and retrieved his radio.

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"Teams ready in position," the radio droned quietly. "We'll go on your count."

Sergeant Bank switched the frequency so that every team with a radio was able to hear. He let out a breath, said a quick prayer, and then keyed the mic.

"All units move in," he said. "Right now."

Officers began thundering toward the front door. Dropping the radio, Bank pulled out his gun and followed after his partner.

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Jeff was making his way down the stairs and happened to glance out the front window in time to see the officers charging towards the door.

"COPS!" he screamed, turning around and hightailing back up.

The men in the living room leaped up just as the back door came crashing in and eleven officers swarmed inside.

"POLICE!"

"HANDS UP….GET THEM UP!"

Cops began grabbing the closest man in reach, shoving them against the wall while others kept aim to make sure they didn't try anything while being arrested.

The detectives stepped in last. Seeing the men being detained, they immediately ran further into the house.

Officer Jordan Faze was standing with his gun on the man his partner was arresting, backing him up. His partner whipped around fast and yelled out for the others to hear.

"Go! Go help them find the detective! We've got this under control!"

At his words, half of the officers in the room turned and ran from the room while the others finished handcuffing the men.

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Olivia and Cragen dashed up the stairs.

"You get left," he said quickly, taking off to the right.

She ran toward the left end of the hallway and stopped outside the first room she saw. Getting into position, she burst inside and aimed her gun.

"Police, freeze!" she yelled.

No one was inside. Keeping her gun in place, she carefully checked the closets and under the bed. She had no idea what these guys could have done with Elliot…for all she knew, he could be anywhere.

Clearing the room, she continued down the hall toward the next one.

After checking the two rooms and finding nothing, Don approached the last and immediately heard voices inside. Taking a quick breath, he got into stance.

"Freeze!" he bellowed, bursting inside. The man inside whipped toward him in alarm. "Stay where you are! Don't move!"

Hearing his shout, Olivia ran from the last room she had just checked. Seeing the open door, she aimed her gun and stepped inside.

"Where's Elliot?" he demanded as he was handcuffing the man. "Where's the detective?"

His only response was a sneer.

Olivia charged forward, raising her gun and pointing it right in the man's face before Don could stop her.

"I'll fucking kill you," she swore. Her hand was shaking slightly. "You have three seconds to tell me where he is." Her eyes flashed furiously when she got no response.

Don's eyes widened when he heard her cock the trigger.

"Three….two…." she growled, raising her finger.

"Olivia!" he barked.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the man taunted. "You kill me, you'll never know where he is!"

"Put your gun **down**, Detective," Cragen snapped, keeping a firm grip on the man's shoulder. "That's an order."

She inhaled loudly through her nose and blinked. Her body began to shake as she realized what she had almost done and she slowly lowered the weapon.

Turning, she ran blindly toward the stairs.

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"Did you find him?" Fin shouted up at her as she was racing down.

"No," she yelled back. "He's not upstairs."

"He's not down here," another officer called out from the dining room. "We searched every room….he's not down here either."

Cragen came downstairs with his suspect in tow in time to hear his statement. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the man on the couch with the others.

Fin stalked into the room and pushed past the officers, striding up to the couch.

"Where is he?" he demanded, grabbing the nearest man and hauling him up. "You better tell us where he is **now**."

The man only smirked, not saying a word. After a minute, a chuckle was heard from someone else.

"GOD DAMN IT!"

The angry bellow startled the officers as John charged into the room. He went over to EJ Jones and grabbed him around the throat. "WHERE IS HE? GOD DAMN YOU…WHERE?" The man began gagging and choking.

"John….**John!" **Cragen yelled. He grabbed his arms and began wrestling him off of the suspect. "Let go. Let go!"

He flew away from the man with a frustrated scream and ran toward the back door.

"Everyone, start searching outside," he yelled, turning back to face them. "If he's not here, then he's got to be around somewhere close….start searching outside!"

Olivia began running toward the door when she heard laughter behind her. Spinning around quickly, she saw the men looking at each other and grinning.

Her hands shook so hard that she had to clench them into fists.

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Officers took out their flashlights and began searching around the front and back of the house. Others took the sides and began working their way back.

O'Hara stepped out of the front door and lifted his radio to his lips.

"Officer Brian O'Hara to Aviation Units," he said into it. "Sweep the house and the areas around. The detective isn't in the house."

After a minute, Inspector Harris responded. "Harris, Unit B," he said. "Copy that, O'Hara."

Taking out his flashlight, O'Hara began heading down the driveway toward the street.

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John swept the flashlight from side to side along the rocky sand as he made his way down towards the pier. A few miles up, he could see the captain doing the same.

Several officers were working parallel to them, searching through the tall grass and murky swamp. Olivia was with the teams searching around the front, and Fin had gone up the road.

The creepy stillness of the area was broken only by the sounds of nature around them. The crickets were going full-force, and he could hear an animal howling softly in the distance.

A shiver ran down his spine and he instinctively hunched deeper into his coat.

He suddenly wanted to cry. If they had to resort to searching the woodlands, there wasn't a chance in hell they were going to find him alive.

This should never have happened. Elliot Stabler was too good of a father, too good of a friend…too good of a person to die this way. He should have a long life ahead of him, filled with grandchildren and making captain someday.

Instead, his life was brutally ripped away, and it was John's fault. He could have prevented the interview with Evans from going the way it had…he could have stopped the horrible, nasty things that he had said.

But he hadn't. Like always, he had let his emotions do the talking and ended up hurting someone he loved and respected more than a brother.

Tears were coming down his cheeks now, and he wiped them quickly as if there was someone around to see him. He was far from the house now…the light from inside was only a distant glow on the horizon.

He approached the pier and saw that he had reached the end of the beach. Despair welled up again and he sighed tearfully, trying to stop the emotions from exploding as he looked out miserably at the dark river.

What if they had dumped his body in the river somewhere? How would they give him a funeral? He deserved a service from the people who loved him. How were they-?

The animal howls abruptly stopped in such an odd way that it drew his focus away from his thoughts. A moment later, he heard what sounded like a wet gurgling noise followed by a faint sob.

He froze, suddenly seeing spots. Animals didn't sob.

Whirling around, he drew his flashlight out and waited, shaking. The howls started up again after a minute and he suddenly realized that they weren't animal at all.

He broke into a run, his heart racing, shining his light in front of him to see where he was going.

When he came around the other end of the pier, he stopped so suddenly that his flashlight fell from his hand. He stood frozen in his tracks, so utterly horrified that he couldn't even move.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Before you all start thinking I'm nuts, let's take a breather for a minute. Okay…yes, I AM aware that the Niagara River is nowhere remotely close to New York City. Yes, I realize it could sound like I am saying the Niagara River when I mean the Niagara Falls, but that is not the case. **

**I am not a geography buff, but rest assured that a lot of research has gone into this story. It's not just for show, I promise. Remember…you've only gotten half the details so far. **

**Thanks again for reviewing. I sincerely hope the second half of the journey measures up to the first.**

His flashlight bobbed slightly in front of him as Fin made his way up the inclined pavement. He didn't spook easily, but the towers of dark trees on either side combined with the absolute pitch blackness surrounding him had his heart racing.

His heart felt like someone was squeezing it, crushing it between their fingers between each beat. All these people were out here searching….they really had no clue about any of those guys or what they were capable of doing. Elliot could literally be anywhere.

There were so many different scenarios…it boggled his mind to even consider them. After all, they didn't really know. They could predict, they could guess, they could think….but no one really knew.

Situation one: he was dead.

Though he hated to even think it, the cop part of his brain automatically went to the one most obvious after thirty-two days and no leads. Once they had killed him, what would these guys do with the body?

_Display it._

He knew that at least one of them was also responsible for the unidentified murder victims they had been investigating before this happened. It was a fact well-known by now that Jones wanted each one to be seen and never forgotten. The possibility of it being dumped or buried seemed unlikely from what they had seen.

So, in a completely uneducated, hopeful hypothesis, perhaps they had already positioned the body somewhere and were waiting for it to be discovered.

Situation two: he was still in the house.

They had searched as thoroughly as they could, but even he wouldn't deny that his adrenaline had been running so high that it had been difficult to concentrate. They hadn't gotten blueprints….the men could have him locked in an attic or basement. They could have put him underneath the floorboards in any one of the rooms in the house, or shoved him in a closet.

His heart was crushed again at the thought of Elliot lying helpless underneath the floor as they walked on top of it, searching. Maybe he had screamed as loud as he could to get them to hear him and they had walked right on by.

He started to shudder.

Situation three: he was in the woods.

The men had discovered that one of their own had squealed. They panic, grab Elliot, and drive up the road into the woods.

Maybe they had tied him to a tree and left him. Maybe they had beaten him and he was lying in the darkness on the brink of consciousness.

Maybe they had buried him alive.

Fin didn't know where that thought had come from, but it sprang up before he even realized it.

It made something else spring up, too.

The four officers walking with him were all startled when the SVU detective lurched to the side of the road without warning and vomited into the dirt.

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_Oh my God._

"Elliot," John said, falling to his knees. He hit the water with a clumsy splash that soaked through his kneecaps, but he didn't even flinch. "Elliot, can you hear me?"

He gently touched his right shoulder and a howl floated up immediately, making him jump. He dropped his hand, but not before feeling the shiver that made the limb shakeAn instant later, a rhythm of spine-tingling sounds met his ears.

"Elliot," he sobbed, breaking down. Too afraid to touch him again, he fumbled around behind him for the flashlight without taking his eyes away from the dark figure in front of him. "Elliot."

Realizing he wasn't doing any good, John turned and began clawing the sand savagely, searching for the light. He grabbed it up, his hands shaking so hard that it took three tries to click it on.

The water washed up to the middle of his chest, which John saw was bare. His head was drooping so limply that it looked like he had no bones at all. His eyes were closed, but John discovered bruises around them and up into his hairline. Something was shoved so far into his mouth that his jaw looked dislocated.

He shuddered and instinctively reached for the offending object, finding it soft when his hand made contact. The noises became even more terrified as he began pulling it out as gently as he could and Elliot started to cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed, unable to bear it. He pulled his hand back and placed it desperately on the side of Elliot's face, trying to form some minute semblance of reassurance and comfort for him.

The cold against his hand made him flinch, as did the immediate tensing that he felt.

How long had he been in this God-forsaken water? How could he have survived such cold?

Elliot whimpered and jerked his head away quickly. Choking on his breath, he took his hand away from his face and stepped back.

The urgent need to get his friend out of this water was overwhelming and John acted on it impulsively. He reached down and began trying to get a hold of his friend, forcing himself to ignore the cries coming from Elliot and his own tears that were blinding him.

His hands splashed in the frigid water, numbing them as he managed a solid grip under his arms. Planting his feet, he began lifting him out of the water.

He was naked. John saw it immediately when his body was lifted away from the water. A minute later, a strong jerk made him slip and nearly let go.

Elliot howled again and John stopped at once. His eyes widened when he discovered the thick rope binding his hands to the pier. He retreated back the way he came and had no choice but to lower him down again.

Getting slightly behind him, John gently took his wrists, careful not to pull. He was horrified to see his hands, a dark-bluish color from the wrists down. As carefully as he could, he began trying to work the rope.

Elliot began choking and howling, and it brought tears of agony down John's face. He tried to reassure him, to tell him what he was doing, but it was obvious that he was hurting him with every touch.

The knots were just too tight. The rope was too slippery with water and blood that he couldn't get his fingers through. When he got a better look, he became so filled with rage that he began to get dizzy.

Each wrist had been individually tied and knotted tight at the pulse point first. They had pushed the backs of his hands together afterwards and tied them together in such a way if he had tried to get free he would end up breaking his fingers.

If their purpose had been simply to subdue him, looping the rope around his wrists would have been plenty. Tying his hands individually was unnecessary. Their handiwork was _deliberately_ cruel. They _wanted_ to hurt him more.

He gave up, starting to shake. He couldn't even untie him…he was doing no good to his friend at all.

"I NEED SOME HELP!" he screamed into the darkness. Sobs began choking his words and he had to struggle to stay in control. "SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP!"

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Officer Jordan Faze stumbled unexpectedly and took a step back to avoid falling.

_What the hell-?_

Stopping where he stood on the sand, he listened. His heart raced in his ears as he strained to ignore the sounds around him.

After a minute, he heard it again and turned around. Cautiously pulling his gun, he began walking toward the sound.

The sound became distinct after a minute. Someone was yelling for help.

He broke into a run, pulling out his radio.

"10-13! 10-13!" he yelled, not knowing what to really say. "Someone is on the beach. There's someone on the beach!"

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The tide was high…they never came when the tide was high.

Elliot thought his mind was playing tricks on him at first. He felt so nauseous and it was a struggle to control his breathing enough that he wouldn't get sick. But when he felt the touch on his shoulder, he panicked instantly.

Oh, Jesus…they were taking the gag out.

The vomit rose at once. Not again….please, not again.

A rough hand came down to his face and rested there. The shudder rose and his stomach turned as he jerked, cowering immediately away.

They were mad now. He could tell. The hand left in an instant and he knew. A sob escaped. Oh, God...they were mad now.

He cried harder when they began lifting him out of the water. _No, no, no…I didn't mean to make them mad! I didn't mean to make them mad, God! _

Then he was back in the water again. He could still feel a presence next to him and he lay absolutely still, shaking in terror. Someone began yelling and he started immediately. He closed his eyes and sobbed.

_Make it stop…please make it stop…_

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The officer next to Don had his radio turned up high, so the unexpected yell through it made him jump about four feet.

The breathless words didn't come in very well and neither of them made out what they were. Both men froze in their tracks and the officer pulled the radio free from his hip.

"Say that again?" he said.

A different voice came over the radio and repeated it.

The two men looked at each other for a minute.

Don turned and took off out of the yard toward the gate. The officer replaced the radio quickly and followed.

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Olivia's heart was racing as she ran down the beach. She could see several officers in the distance running in the same direction.

_Let him be alive…please Jesus, let him be alive._

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"Go, go!" one of the officers yelled, seeing them hesitate.

Fin turned and began sprinting back up the road. The other officers did the same.

"This is Officer Richard Kyle," the officer remaining said. "We may have something…on the beach. Repeat, on the beach behind the house. All units respond, over."

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After what seemed like an eternity, John heard the sound of someone coming.

"What is it?" a breathless voice asked. "Is he here?"

A young officer rounded the pier and came into sight. John leaped up quickly, nearly tackling him.

"Do you have a knife?" he snapped urgently. "I need something sharp."

Officer Faze was looking at Elliot, his face pale. His eyes were wide. He didn't respond.

"Officer!" he barked, making the young man jump. He whipped toward him. "A knife! Get me a KNIFE!"

Fumbling clumsily in his gun belt, Faze pulled out his Swiss Army and held it out.

John snatched it from his hand and dove to the ground, crawling into the water quickly.

Pulling it open, John reached for his hands again. Elliot began whimpering like crazy and shaking. He winced in agony and placed his hand on the side of his face again, unable to help himself. Tears came out again when he saw his friend flinch away from him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, buddy," he sobbed. "I promise."

His only response was muffled sobs. Moving behind him, John fingered the rope and carefully gripped his hands to hold them still.

Elliot began to freak out then, jerking and struggling, and it made John panic too. He tried to loosen his hold without letting go while reassuring him.

"I'm going to cut the ropes, Elliot," he said tearfully, trying to keep composure. "I'm just cutting the ropes."

He thrashed harder, causing John to slip in surprise, and the knife plunged into flesh.

The muffled scream from Elliot mixed with the cry of agony from John.

The screams quickly became choking. Clenching his teeth, John turned his head.

"Officer!" he yelled. The young man jumped, looking at John wide-eyed. "I need you over here."

Officer Faze looked terrified.

"Get OVER here!" John screamed desperately. He felt bad for the man, but now was not the time to be nice. "Please, I need you to help me!"

Jordan shook himself and launched into the sand quickly. He came over beside John.

"What am I doing?" he asked quickly, trying not to sound as scared as he felt.

John was moving to his other side. The man in the sand was gagging and crying painfully, shaking hard. He was completely helpless to move.

"I need you to hold him down," he commanded, hating himself. It had to be done. There was no way he could do it while Elliot was struggling. "Be as gentle as you can, but I need you to keep him still."

"O-okay," Faze said worriedly.

Hesitantly moving over, he got behind the man and grabbed his hands. He was screaming and struggling, but was not strong. Faze only had to use one arm to hold him down, and he wasn't even flexing.

John knelt in front of Elliot and reached for the gag. He got a careful grip on it and began pulling it out of his mouth. He whimpered and moaned, trying hard to jerk away from him.

As soon as the gag was gone, the most earth-shattering shriek John had ever heard came from Elliot's mouth.

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"Jesus Christ," Olivia gasped, hearing the horrible scream.

She pumped harder toward the pier, passing the officers running with her.

When she turned the bend, she almost plowed into a few officers standing there. Stopping herself quickly, she looked around and her heart went straight to her feet when she saw where they were standing.

They had passed right by this very spot when they had first arrived.

Her stomach twisted dangerously, threatening to expel the contents. She breathed rapidly, trying to stay in control as tears swam in her eyes

She had walked _right past_ him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Don flew toward the water, splashing loudly. He struggled to keep balance in the slippery mud.

John tossed the knife and stood up quickly, the officer beside him doing the same.

"No, no!" Elliot screamed desperately, feeling himself being lifted up. "Please, PLEASE!"

Fire ripped along his insides and he howled.

Seeing what John was doing, Cragen immediately turned and began yelling at the officers.

"Move, move," he barked, backing up. "Clear a path!"

Officer O'Hara jumped in to help, shoving anyone within reach. "He said move!" he yelled. "Do what he says, damn it!"

The officers parted and John stumbled up onto the sand, holding his friend securely in his arms. It scared him to see how light he was. Elliot was a few inches shorter than he, but outweighed him by almost twenty-five pounds with his muscle mass.

It felt like he was carrying a piece of cardboard in his arms right now.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They were carrying him up the beach. He begged desperately but knew better than to struggle when they were carrying him. He had already made them mad once.

_Please God…please don't put me on my back…please, please, please…_

They began lowering him down back-first, and he panicked.

"NO, NO!" he yelled, starting to cry. He thrashed desperately, trying to turn his body, and it made the pain worse. "GOD, STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE!"

The grip became stronger as he continued to go down. Despite his screams, he ended up lying on the sand on his back.

It hurt so bad that he couldn't do anything but sob. He was so lightheaded that he couldn't even fight as his head drooped back, and he didn't have the strength to try.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He was begging.

Olivia had never, ever heard her partner sound like that in all the years she had known him. His voice was always deep, strong, and confident. She could recognize it even if she was standing in a room full of talking people. As John carried him up the sand, his voice was shrill and hysterical, like a child's.

It scared the living shit out of her.

Quickly pushing past the other officers, she flew up the sand toward where John, Cragen, O'Hara, and another officer were kneeling down.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When John set him down, Cragen was horrified to see that Elliot was completely naked.

His face flushed involuntarily when his penis flopped onto the sand and he ripped at his coat, hastening to cover him up.

Shame and anger for Elliot made his face hot. He yanked his coat off and draped it over Elliot's lower body, hiding his genitals from sight.

"Coats," he ordered at the other three.

They already had them off. He gasped out loud when his hand made contact with the freezing skin as he was swaddling Elliot with the coats.

People this cold were usually in a morgue.

Every exposed area that Don saw was discolored with frostbite. His nipples were shriveled abnormally and were dark blue on the tips. His lips were blue, the tips of his ears were blue…even his eyelids were blue.

_Jesus Christ…how long was he out here like this_?

Leaning forward, he took another coat and wrapped it over his chest. As he was tucking it around his arms, Elliot let out a small moan. It sounded like a wounded animal.

The sound tore at him and Cragen began to cry as he draped the last coat over him, making sure he was covered from head to toe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Breathlessly, Fin made it to where the group was standing and began pushing his way up through them.

He didn't see Olivia, John, or Cragen in the crowd.

Looking around for them, he kept making his way up. When the officers moved aside, he suddenly saw them and lost his breath.

It could only mean one thing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"We need the boat," Cragen said softly, restlessly adjusting the coats.

John could see his hands shaking. Olivia was kneeling beside him with her fist shoved in her mouth, her body trembling. She was trying her best not to fall apart. Fin was next to her, looking more terrified than John had ever seen.

Officer O'Hara looked up. His face was ashen and he looked to have aged ten years.

"The chopper should be here any minute," he said gravelly. "They can-"

"GET THE BOAT, GOD DAMN IT!"

The captain's voice broke as he suddenly yelled. It startled them. By the look on his face, Don was startled as well.

Elliot immediately began to cry. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was whimpering. Cragen got a horrified look on his face and started to cry as well when he realized what he had done.

John looked at Cragen desperately. _It scared him…Christ, what the hell is the matter with us_?

O'Hara got to his feet and began to run.

Cragen leaned down, sobbing, and attempted to rest his hand on Elliot's forehead. He screamed out and jerked his head, crying harder. Don took his hand away.

He backed away slightly and fell to the sand, sobbing so hard that he had trouble breathing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Come on," John suddenly said, his voice raspy.

Fin tore his eyes away from Cragen and looked at him. He was swallowing and crouching to his knees.

His chest was shaking with sobs as he leaned over Elliot and began pulling him gently forward. Elliot's screams sent chills down Fin's spine.

"What are you doing?" he said through his own tears. He didn't even recognize the sound of his own voice.

Clenching his jaw, John bit back his emotions and moved closer, sliding his arms under Elliot's back. "We have to get him to the boat."

Fin didn't move. He looked at Elliot and back up at his partner.

"John-" he half-sobbed. He shook his head desperately.

"Help me, Fin," John said through clenched teeth. His voice cracked. He struggled to get himself positioned. "I need you to help me."

The other officer with them suddenly came forward and reached for Elliot's waist. John looked at him.

"Get his legs," he said.

The officer moved around Fin and got down by the lower half of Elliot's body.

Fin looked at Olivia and saw that she too was frozen. He closed his eyes briefly and then moved.

"There," John was saying. "Yeah-get him up. Get him up here."

He didn't comment when his partner came around and began helping.

"Here…move back a minute."

The hoarse voice didn't belong to any of them. They all looked over to see Cragen kneeling with them. His face was splotchy and his voice weary. He sniffled, swallowing.

"Get hold of his waist," he said to the young officer.

No one questioned him.

Elliot began screaming and suddenly jerked hard, throwing them off-balance. Startled, they quickly tried to get hold again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

There was more than one.

Oh, God…they were trying to get him on his knees.

He began screaming, struggling as hard as he could to get out of their grip, but they were too strong. He felt himself being pulled forward.

"Please, please," he sobbed hysterically.

Not again. Not again.

Their rough, calloused hands were digging into his flesh, grabbing at his arms, touching his waist.

Why wouldn't this end? Why wouldn't they just let him die?

A hand came down to rest on his right temple and he was so startled that his scream cut off mid-stream.

It was a different feeling. Soft. Light. Small.

Gentle.

It was a feather-like touch, almost as if the owner was ready to yank it away at a moment's notice. The fingers were smooth as silk and splayed into his hair slightly.

He remained rigid and tense, his heart racing, and waited for it to go away.

It didn't.

Instead, the fingers began to gently stroke his skin, so lightly that he barely felt it. But he did.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His scream suddenly died and the four men were so startled that they paused. Olivia looked at them, terrified.

Her hand was resting on his right temple lightly. Her fingers were shaking as she kept them absolutely still.

He leaned into her touch.

It was so light that she thought she had imagined it. Swallowing hard, she shifted closer. Her hand stayed where it was.

She felt it again.

Taking a chance, she gently began massaging the area with her fingertips, stroking lightly into his hair with her pinky.

The muscles under her hand relaxed.

Sobbing, she kept it up.

Cragen had tears running down his face as he looked at the men beside him.

Silently, they shifted so that they could work around her and lifted him up.

They walked slowly toward the water, holding him low enough that she could keep her contact.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story. **

O'Hara jumped into the boat and started the engine, reaching for the radio.

"This is Port Authority Police Officer Brian O'Hara," he said frantically into it. "I have a man who needs medical attention immediately. We're on the Niagara River, about thirty miles in."

Turning around, he looked at the detectives all huddled on the floor around where they had placed Elliot

"Everyone hold on," he called out.

He made sure they obeyed and gunned the helm. Then he repeated the call for help into the radio.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Everyone secured themselves with arms or hands against the nearest object as the boat took off. Olivia reached down and carefully pressed her hands into Elliot's midsection to keep him anchored and he cried out.

Tears seeped through her eyelashes every time she blinked. She made sure to keep hold as carefully as she could until the initial jolt wore off and then let go immediately. Crawling back up to sit beside his head, she placed her hand on the side of his face again.

He looked so terrified as he lay there under the huge pile of coats. Tears fell as soon as she touched him but he didn't move away.

Her heart felt like it had shattered into a thousand pieces.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Chief Joe Harmon picked up the radio.

"This is Aviation Team B," he said. "We're about three miles from you, Officer O'Hara. Just hang tight….I've got her going full speed."

He was startled by the response.

"We're not waiting," O'Hara replied. "I'm heading north to meet you. Can you prepare a rescue harness?"

Inspector Harris started and looked at Harmon in alarm.

"Roger that," he said. "We're on the way."

He replaced the radio and began fiddling with the controls, his eyes on the GPS monitor.

"Under the rear seat there's a compartment," he said to Harris without taking his eyes from his task. "We need rope, camlock buckles, and D-rings…the biggest ones."

Harris didn't say anything. When Chief Harmon looked over at him, he saw a look of panic on the younger man's face.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

Harris shook himself. "Nothing," he quickly replied.

Harmon nodded absently, looking to the altimeter again.

The inspector unbuckled his seat belt and rose from the co-pilot seat. His legs were wobbly as he made his way toward the back of the chopper, and he knew it wasn't from the vertigo.

He had been part of the Aviation Unit for five years and had never once performed an airlift rescue.

Now he was half of the team being depended on to use it to save a man's life.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He knew it had been a trick.

As soon as they laid him on the hard surface, the strange yet soothing feeling of the hand on his forehead went away. Then they were holding him down again.

He instinctively yelled out, but was so afraid of getting the gag put back in that he stopped.

His stomach went into his throat when he felt himself being rocked from side to side on the hard floor.

Where had they taken him? It wasn't the house…he hadn't heard the gate squeal when it opened. It didn't feel like the beach….but he saw stars above, so maybe they were somewhere still on the beach.

Maybe they had a secret place that they hadn't taken him yet.

His heart began to race. If there was a new place….they might do something worse than they had already been doing.

When the hand came back, he started to cry. Now he knew what it meant. They wanted him to relax so that they could try something new.

He couldn't let them….he couldn't. He tensed up as tight as he could and felt his insides throbbing. It hurt so much, but he didn't relax.

It was tersely silent for a minute as he controlled his breathing, but then suddenly a terrible rush of noise came bombarding up. It was worse than anything he had ever heard before.

The noise came so close that he panicked and began screaming.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sudden gusts alerted them to the approach of the helicopter. Looking up, Don saw waves rippling up fast.

The beating of the chopper's wings became audible and loud. They all winced instinctively against it, but were startled when Elliot suddenly began screaming.

Olivia dropped her hand from where it had been resting on his head, looking shocked. He whimpered and kept screaming, sounding terrified.

Cragen was making his way toward them quickly. Shooting him an alarmed look, she ducked down and put her face right next to Elliot's.

"It's ok, Elliot," she said into his ear. She reached under the pile of coats on top of him and found his left hand, squeezing tight. "Shh, honey…it's ok. You're safe now." She lifted her other hand and stroked the side of his face. "Everything's ok."

His eyes suddenly flew open and locked with hers. Through the tears and the terror, Olivia saw in that moment that he realized who she was.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The voice from his dreams…..it was the voice from his dreams.

_"Oh, yeah…I got a regular eight by ten of you out there mowing the front lawn." _

_"A cop should know where his partner has breakfast." _

_"When I said I'd have dinner with you, I thought we might be sitting." _

_"Why don't you stop at your desk first?" _

_"What's going to stop this guy from coming after you, Olivia?" _

Olivia.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the brown eyes he saw in his dreams. Gasping, he flexed his hand. He had to be imagining it. No way could she be there.

The grip instantly tightened, curling around his fingers. He began to cry and clung to her hand frantically.

She was there….Olivia was there. She could protect him. She would protect him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"We're ready with the harness," Chief Harmon said through the radio. O'Hara had to press it right against his ear to hear him. "Coming down."

"Got it," O'Hara confirmed. "Send it down."

John looked up at the helicopter hovering directly above them and saw the doors open. A man was hooking himself up to a tether of some kind.

His eyes widened instinctively when he saw the man jump out, but realized that he was coming down slowly.

"Detectives," he heard O'Hara shouting. He turned his head toward him. "We're going to get him hooked to the rescue harness...they're going to airlift him."

He saw Olivia's eyes bug out immediately. She looked terrified.

The man on the tether landed in the boat and began unhooking himself. He looked at the detectives and at Elliot. "You guys ready?"

Cragen jumped to his feet instantly and everyone except Olivia did the same.

"What's the easiest way to do this?" Don shouted to the officer.

He thought a minute and shouted back, "Hook it around his middle and keep him lying flat…he'll be less likely to swing that way."

Nodding, Don moved toward Elliot. The others all followed.

Elliot screamed out when they began touching him and curled toward Olivia, still beside him. He desperately grabbed onto her sweater and tried to bury his face into her neck.

She was crying. John saw her bend her head down and he guessed she was trying to reassure him, but Elliot just kept trying to cling to her.

She had no choice but to rip his hands away so that they could have access to him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She thought she was going to have a heart attack. She was sobbing so hard that she could feel her heart contracting with each breath.

Her hands were shaking hard as she forced herself to wrap them around her partner's and pry them away from her shirt. His anguished screams made her feel like she was being stabbed over and over.

The look of shock and misery on his face when they gently pulled him back flat on the floor cut her to the quick and she almost puked.

"It's ok, baby," she kept saying into his ear. He was sobbing and fighting while they looped the rope over and underneath his body. "I'm here…I'm right here."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Why was she pushing him away?

He felt the rough hands that he knew all too well grabbing him again and he screamed, trying with all his might to keep her with him. But she was pushing him away.

"Olivia," he screamed hysterically as he desperately groped for her. "Please don't leave me! Please don't leave me!"

His hands were forced away from her and he was on his back. He sobbed and screamed, struggling wildly. The pain flared with a vengeance, making him scream louder.

He heard clicks and felt himself being restrained. No, no, no….why wasn't she helping him? Why was she leaving him?

Their deep voices were shouting next to his head and he cowered away, closing his eyes. Fear made him shake.

Then his heart was in his throat when he felt himself being lifted up. The pain inside of him assaulted him full force and he screamed, feeling like he was going to pass out.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Chief Harmon had the chopper on autopilot as he pulled the tether slowly up. The sound of screams met his ears when the man was almost to him.

He pulled the man inside the helicopter and laid him on the floor so that he could get him unbuckled. His screams sent chills down the chief's spine.

"It's alright, Detective," he said frantically, trying to be heard over the roar of the blades and the screams of the man in front of him. "Just relax."

His words produced the exact opposite effect. He thrashed and yelled like an animal, making it difficult to get the rings unclipped. Harmon finally had to hold him still.

"He's in," he said into the radio he held, letting go. "I'm sending the rope down."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rope came down again and Olivia grabbed it. She began hurrying to strap it around herself.

Inspector Harris untwisted the rings and secured them, making sure there was no slack and that it was as tight as it could go.

She nodded to O'Hara.

"Benson's coming up," he said into the radio.

"Got it," came the reply.

A look of fear flashed over her face when her feet left the ground. She screwed her eyes shut and didn't look down, forcing herself not to freak out.

They watched her be pulled safely inside the helicopter.

"Rope's coming down," Harmon repeated.

Inspector Harris looked to the remaining officers around him. "Anyone else going up?"

Cragen, John, and Fin looked at each other. They all wanted to. But Elliot needed to get to a hospital as soon as possible. They were just prolonging him.

Fin swallowed hard, tears welling in his eyes. "Let me," he begged the other two. "Please…let me go."

"Go," Cragen immediately said, looking to Harris.

The inspector bit his lip, knowing as well that they needed to move as quickly as possible. Lifting the radio he held to his lips, he said, "One more coming up."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As soon as she was unbuckled, Olivia hurried to where Elliot lay screaming and threw herself next to him. She wrapped her arms around him from the side and shook.

"It's ok, honey," she said, over and over. "It's alright now. Everything's alright now."

He clung to her in an instant and buried his face into her shirt. "No more," he whimpered, sobbing. "Please, no more."

She wasn't sure if he was referring to the airlift or not, but replied nonetheless.

"No more, baby," she assured, running her hand over the side of his face. "I promise. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore. I promise."

She stroked the back of his trembling head and pressed her face into his hair. A presence beside her startled her and she turned her head to see Fin lower himself down on the floor.

He swallowed hard, looking at her with tears in his eyes, and didn't speak. She didn't either.

"Are we ready?" Inspector Harris said, unbuckling himself. He looked at the three of them on the floor hesitantly. Chief Harmon was sitting back in the pilot seat.

Olivia nodded without lifting her face. Harris looked to Fin sympathetically.

"Yeah," he said shortly. "Go….we're ready."

He looked at Fin for a moment longer and nodded. "We're set, Chief."

"Hold on," the chief replied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The helicopter began to disappear from sight. The men in the boat looked at each other in amazement and relief.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence and then John looked at the two officers with them.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He looked at them intensely and tears slowly dripped on his cheeks.

Don closed his eyes, bowing his head, and nodded agreement. "We couldn't have done it without you."

They looked surprised and nodded gravely, not trusting themselves to speak at the moment.

Swallowing hard, Cragen turned towards O'Hara. "And thank you too," he said. "You'll never know how much we appreciate what you've done." He bit his lip. "Can you take us to the hospital? That-that is where they're going, right?"

Officer O'Hara nodded. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere else," he said. "And I know I speak for us all when I say don't thank us. You guys are the heroes. The way you handled this..." He trailed off awkwardly. "Well….I just know I wouldn't have been able to be so composed."

Cragen dropped heavily into the nearest seat and buried his face in his palms, exhausted.

O'Hara turned and made his way back to the helm. "I'll get you there as fast as I can," he said, looking at John.

He managed a tired smile before dropping into a seat as well.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia sat and held Elliot, who seemed content to lay sideways with his face in her neck, as the helicopter took them toward the nearest hospital. Chief Harmon promised it wasn't more than ten minutes away.

The position was just fine with her. God Himself couldn't make her move right now.

He couldn't seem to stop crying. Every breath he took hitched and she felt it against her skin.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what those animals had done to him. He was shaking hard despite the coats all over him. His face was badly bruised, and his hands were so ghastly that it made her shudder to look at them.

He had to be in such horrible pain right now. She sobbed silently, turning her face away so that Fin wouldn't see it.

Why had God allowed this to happen? She had never felt such rage toward anybody the way she did toward Him. She didn't own a Bible, never went to church, and cussed like a sailor on the job sometimes. She and God had never been on good terms, but this crossed the line. He could do whatever He wanted to her, but He didn't touch her best friend.

Why Elliot?

What would make the Lord inflict this much pain on someone who worshipped Him? Her partner never hid his faith from anyone. He made it known that he loved God and didn't care what anyone thought, even her. Why would He do this to him?

She gulped in a breath and shifted slightly, trying to ease the numb ache in her back, and the moan of agony that she heard made her freeze. Her heart plummeted at the thought of causing him anymore pain.

He jerked awkwardly and groaned again, sobbing. His face lifted from her neck and she saw a deep grimace on his crumbled face.

"Shh, sweetheart," she said softly, getting closer to him. She reached for the back of his neck, cradling it.

He moaned deeply and pushed away from her.

Olivia exchanged an alarmed look with Fin, who knelt close at once. He looked panicked as he looked back at her.

"What is it?" she asked. "Elliot, what is it?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As she moved to hold him, she inadvertently brushed against his side, causing fire to ripple along his nerves. Every touch to his backside was murder.

What could he possibly say?

_There's something inside of me? _

The pain became so great that he lost his breath. He began yelping in agony and started to see spots.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fin was horrified when he saw the look on Elliot's face. He looked like he was going to puke or faint or do both at once.

The shuddering, panting noise that was heard made him want to cover his ears. It sounded inhuman. By the look on his face, he was in pain. Lots of it.

He curled his legs up and went limp against Olivia, losing consciousness. She flipped out.

"Elliot!" she screamed, frantically pushing him back. "ELLIOT!"

She felt for his pulse and found one… weak but it was there. Jerking her head up, she looked at Fin with tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked brokenly.

Her voice chilled him. He had never heard her so hysterical before.

Alerted by the commotion, Inspector Harris climbed out of his seat and hurried back toward him. "What happened?" he asked, horrified.

The way he was laying was odd. Something definitely wasn't right.

His hands shaking, Fin began to slowly lift up the coats wrapped around his friend's body.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asked tearfully, gasping for breath.

He didn't respond as he kept going, gently peeling away layer after layer. Inspector Harris looked at her in confusion and alarm. She was horrified…she couldn't even think straight.

The last coat was lifted and Fin touched cold. He flinched instinctively and realized he was touching Elliot's bare skin. Swallowing hard, he began probing gently around his torso for breaks.

As he came around toward his back, he brushed against something that made his hair stand on end.

"Christ," he whispered, leaning over. He realized what it was. "Fucking Christ."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His alarmed tone worried her.

"What?" she asked, swallowing. "Fin….**what**?"

Elliot remained limply sprawled against her. He wasn't moving at all.

She heard tears in Fin's voice. "Holy Mother….Oh, Christ."

"Fin **what is it**?" she repeated, her voice raising an octave.

He turned toward her. His face was as pale as a black man's possibly could be.

"They raped him," he whispered, his body trembling. "Olivia….there's a knife….there's a knife in his…."

Gasping, he turned his head away and vomited onto the steel floor of the plane.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Fin continued to heave until all that came up were a few bursts of vile gut gas. He swallowed hard and panted, sniffling.

Inspector Harris was as white as a sheet. He stood above them and looked at Olivia with wide eyes. She didn't even take any notice of him at all.

Seven years working with the most deviant, disgusting displays of sexual sadism that no human should ever have to see and yet this moment had her absolutely floored. In an instant, she found herself crawling back into the shell of the naïve, impressionable rookie SVU detective who had puked after interviewing her first rape victim.

This couldn't be happening. God, they couldn't have-

She jumped when she suddenly felt tears streaming down her face and was startled when she touched her cheek. Her face was absolutely soaked with them. It hadn't even registered at all.

Elliot.

She sobbed and clung to his limp form with an almost savage of desperation. Sweet, kind, wonderful Elliot… not him. Please God….not him.

Her entire body shook with the force of her sobs. Jesus, it must have been brutal. To be attacked at all is horrible in itself….but a **_knife_? _A knife_? **

Why had she gone up those stairs? Why wasn't she with him when those bastards had stormed into the warehouse? Why hadn't she taken her chance and gone for her gun?

Her sobs became audible and turned into almost guttural sounding howls.

Why?

**_Why? _**

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The speedboat continued to fly over the glassy water, the searchlight cutting through the darkness. The faint humming of the motor and the splashing of the water were the only sounds being made. Not one man on board spoke.

O'Hara glanced at the coordinates in front of him and turned his head.

"The hospital is about seven miles away," he said.

He glanced briefly at Cragen and got no response. Biting his lip, he turned toward Munch and didn't even get a raised head. The other three officers were staring blankly out at the water. They didn't acknowledge him either.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fin's voice registered in her head vaguely, but she didn't comprehend his words. He spoke again, more forcefully, and she lifted her face.

His face was pained and tear streaked, but his jaw was set.

"We need to check him for other injuries," he said.

She just stared at him blearily, her pulse throbbing painfully with every blink of her eyes.

"How…how could they?" she finally whispered, her voice shaking along with the rest of her body. "Elliot….God, how could they?"

She started to sob again and shook her head, lowering back down to rest her face against the back of his motionless head.

The compulsion to give in and break down with her was overwhelming. Clenching his teeth, he shuffled closer.

"There's no way to tell what other kinds of injuries he's got," he said. "They could be life-threatening, Olivia….we have to check"

"I can't," she whispered weakly, shaking her head. She sounded bone-weary. "I can't."

"Damn it, it's our **job**!" he cried, the despair easily channeling into anger. "We need to help him!"

He bit his lip and choked, realizing he was yelling now, and studied the floor as warm tears continued to trail down his cheeks.

"I can't, either," he said hoarsely after a minute. His voice was dull now. "This whole thing…I can't deal with it either. But this isn't about us right now. "

Olivia lifted her face and stared silently at him for a long time. Her face was agonized as she closed her eyes and seemed to be accepting what he was saying.

"We don't get to pick the vic," she whispered shakily, more to herself than Fin.

_"His words, not mine."_

His upbeat, slightly cynical voice came into her head in an instant. Oh, Jesus…

"What?"

Fin's voice startled her and she opened her eyes, quickly shaking her head. "Nothing," she said. She looked over at the unconscious form of her best friend. "You're right."

She took a deep breath and nodded, looking up at Fin with as much fake confidence as she could possibly muster. "You're right," she repeated. "We need to check."

Fin looked at her for a minute and then slowly nodded. He began positioning himself on Elliot's left side.

Olivia closed her eyes for another minute, her heart quivering.

It wasn't about them right now.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After a hesitant glance at her, Fin began gently rolling Elliot's torso forward, careful not to bang his head. She flinched instantly, expecting to hear a yelp of pain, and was relieved to see him still unconscious.

_Thank God you're not awake for this. _

If he was, she wouldn't be able to take it.

Inspector Harris suddenly appeared at his side and startled her. She had forgotten he was even there.

"How can I help?" he asked hoarsely.

Fin looked at him, seeming shocked by his presence as well, but played it off quickly. "Hold onto his weight," he said. He looked over at her. "Liv, come help me."

She scrambled over and assisted Harris in lifting his body up a few inches. Seeing the knife firsthand made her suck in a breath.

Jesus….the handle was almost completely buried…

She felt Fin pause and shook herself again, getting a more solid grip. Blood was oozing from where the knife was inserted, leaving a smeared puddle where he had been lying.

He looked at her with panic in his eyes.

They looked around for a minute and Fin pulled one of the coats from overtop of him. He wrapped it around his hands and leaned down. Olivia flinched when he looped it around the knife handle and pressed tight. He looked back up at her, biting his lip.

Angry purple and red wounds were splattered all over his back, from his waist to the tops of his shoulders. Some of them had raw skin underneath. Grimacing, she leaned closer to examine them more thoroughly.

Some were horrifyingly easy to identify. The indentation of a belt buckle left a perfectly shaped mark, right down to the tiny clasp in the middle. There were dozens of them.

But the others….she couldn't figure out what they were. A circle with several tiny dots inside of it was painfully embedded in his upper left shoulder. Scanning with her eyes, she saw several more of them in other various places. Strange oblong-shaped marks were embedded in the flesh as well.

Tears began to fall again.

She gently cradled his neck and probed his shoulder muscles, sucking in a breath. He was so cold.

No breaks. She moved up and raked her hands through his hair thoroughly, encountering several knots near the base of his skull.

Flinching, she jerked her hands quickly away and tried again, more gentle this time. She smoothed the side of his head and over his ears, getting every inch she could reach.

"Lay him down on his side," she instructed, scooting around his head.

Her hand encountered Fin's warm pile of vomit. Her hand shook as she flung it in panic, a low moan creeping up her throat. She would not puke. She would not puke.

Wiping it almost spastically on the seat of her jeans, she crawled around until she was on his other side. Harris came around his feet to join her.

"Start at his feet," she said. "Check for broken bones."

His face looked even worse close up. Both eyes were blackened and his nose was busted. She stroked over it again and down to his neck, checking that side and his collarbone for breaks. None.

She lifted the hand closest to her, the one she had previously been holding, and gently flexed each of his fingers. She pressed down into the palm and felt down to his wrists, shuddering at the sight without being able to help it.

The indentations were gruesomely deep, like a cookie cutter in raw dough.

Stifling her tears, she reached over and pulled his other arm carefully toward her. She felt three broken fingers and jerked her head toward his face, sure he was going to scream.

He was out cold.

His wrist was broken and his elbow was awkwardly bent. Fingering it as gently as she could, she felt for the bone.

It was jerked out of the socket.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Inspector Harris pressed into each leg, working his way up. No broken bones in his feet, but several toes looked to have frostbite.

He gently bent the right leg at the knee, then the left. No breaks.

His face flushed when he got further up and encountered the man's penis. His heart began to pound instinctively and he swallowed nervously.

_Should I…am I supposed to touch it? _

"I….wh-" He flushed again, mortified that he was stammering, and looked at Fin. "Do I…?

"I'll do it," the detective said brusquely. "Move."

His face flaming, he backed away. Fin looked at him intently. "Go keep pressure on that," he ordered. "Press hard."

Harris stumbled around and shakily wrapped his hands around the coat, forcing himself to look at the ceiling.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Swallowing hard, Fin gently pressed his hands into both of Elliot's inner thighs. He began sweeping up with his fingers while carefully extending them apart.

The flesh was cut vertically on the left side of the scrotum. Judging from the color and dried blood, the wound was not fresh. The testicles were slashed so viciously that it made him sick.

The penis and the area around the urethra were oddly discolored, sort of a grayish-black that puzzled Fin. It wasn't the same color as the areas that he saw with frostbite.

White-hot rage threatened to explode inside when he saw the teeth marks.

They traveled from the middle of the penis down to the tip and were raw. He had seen victims of sexual games gone awry before…some of the males had nibble marks on the penis. But these…these definitely weren't nibble marks. Chunks of flesh had been taken off.

He realized he had started to shake and forced himself to keep going.

His hands continued going gently upward, reaching safer territory at last. He pressed into the hipbones, under the belly button, and along the abdomen. No breaks.

Withdrawing his hands, he let out a shaking breath and closed his eyes.

"Nothing broken as far as I could tell," he said softly, meeting eyes with Olivia. "But they…." He choked. "They real-really tore him up down….down there."

She closed her eyes and didn't respond, her chin sinking to her chest. She didn't look up at either of them.

Inspector Harris looked at Fin with watery eyes, but the detective didn't speak.

Shaking his head softly, Fin draped the coat back over his friend and tucked it under securely, hiding him once more. He sank back onto his heels and buried his face in his hands.

After a minute, Harris heard soft crying from behind the black man's burly fingers.

Biting his lip to keep out his own tears, he got to his feet and quietly walked back toward the front of the helicopter.

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"…bring in filters, stat…."

"EKG normal…."

"…we need a read…**someone get a read**…"

Broken sounds and distorted voices filtered into his head, mixing together in the darkness.

They faded out.

Then came back.

_What…what's going on…? _

He was so incredibly tired…why couldn't he open his eyes? He just wanted to sleep…

_Wait…wait! Olivia…where are you? Come back! Please…where are you? _

The restless twitching caught them off guard.

"Quick, give him another…"

_No, no…_

He struggled to yell and found he couldn't. He tried to move and was restrained. Someone was pressing his abdomen.

He wanted to cry. He couldn't.

A dream. It had all been a dream. She was gone.

She had never been there at all.

_No…no, please, no… _

Darkness.

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"You sure I can't get you some water or something?" Chief Harmon asked softly, looking at them in concern. "Maybe something to eat?"

Olivia didn't look up from where she was sprawled into the chair in the waiting room, her head leaned back against the wall and eyes shut. Fin was hunched over in the chair next to her, hands resting on his knees and head bowed. Munch sat on Olivia's other side, staring intently at the thread he was listlessly picking at on his jeans.

Cragen tiredly lifted his head from it's bent position and shook his head. His dark eyes were hollow and seemed to be having trouble focusing.

Inspector Harris stood beside the chief. He glanced at him for a minute and shook his head gently, advising him to back off.

With a small sigh, the chief shrugged in defeat and quietly sat next to Fin. Harris dropped beside him.

The clock ticked off every pulsating heartbeat as they sat and waited.

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"Excuse me."

Startled by the breathless voice, the brunette nurse turned around from where she was seated in front of the computer to face the woman over the desk.

Pieces of her half-up blonde hair brushed into her face and she reached up to swipe them back. The dark gray sweatshirt she wore seemed to swallow her thin frame and the blue jeans were old and worn-in. She looked like a wreck.

"Yes?" the woman asked quickly, taking in the distressed appearance. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Elliot Stabler," she said quickly with anxious eyes. "They said he was here."

She felt for the woman immediately, but couldn't ignore her job. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "But I'm afraid I can't give out patient information without…"

Reaching into her back pocket, the blonde withdrew a wallet and slapped it down onto the counter.

"I'm Assistant District Attorney Novak," she said, sounding desperate. "I work at the 16th precinct under District Attorney Arthur Branch…I'll give you the address and phone number if I have to. Please, tell me where he is."

Making sure to check the ID for security reasons, the brunette moved to check the sign-in chart.

"He's on the fourth floor," she said. "Elevators are to your left."

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"Don."

His head snapped up at the tearful voice and he stood at once when he saw who it was. The other three exchanged weary, worried glances and remained where they were.

"Kathy," he said, walking toward her quickly.

Maureen was beside her and it startled him for a moment to see how much they looked alike…she could have passed as a sister instead of a daughter. Kathleen, Elizabeth, and Dickie were at their heels.

He tried to hug her but she swiftly dodged him.

"Where is he?" she asked, looking around frantically. "Is-is he in a room?"

"Not yet," he said gently. "He's in the OR right now."

A stricken look passed over her face, but before she could speak, Maureen did instead.

"OR?" she repeated tearfully. Don looked at her full-on for the first time and was shocked once again. His initial thoughts were wrong….aside from the blonde hair, she was the spitting image of Elliot. "He's hurt?"

Elizabeth stepped up beside her, and the only thing he could focus on were the tears streaming down her round cheeks as she sobbed silently, obviously trying to get under control but not being able to.

Dickie had shot up from the last time he had seen him….he was now almost a head taller than his twin and was catching up to Kathleen fast. He too looked almost exactly like Elliot except for the dirty-blonde hair.

Kathleen stayed behind them and wouldn't meet his eyes when he glanced at her.

He couldn't even imagine what these kids were going through. They had not been shielded from what had happened. The public knew of his abduction almost immediately….they had made media appeals as soon as possible. His face surfaced at least once a day on many news channels.

"Don?" Kathy asked, jerking his attention back fast. She looked absolutely terrified. "Please…tell me he's alright." Tears made her blue-green eyes bright. "Please."

He swallowed hard….he couldn't lie to her.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. "He's…well, he's alive, Kathy," he said softly. "Right now…." His voice choked and he had to struggle to finish the thought. "Right now, that in itself is an act of mercy."

She was horrified to see the tears slip down his weathered face. Her composure shattered and she broke into sobs, burying her face in her hands.

Maureen began crying too and wrapped her arms around her mother. Kathy leaned her head against her daughter's and hugged her tight, her entire body shaking. Elizabeth looked at them and burst into tears.

Don bit his lip, vainly trying to keep his own sobs at bay, and found he couldn't.

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Munch and Fin were watching the painful exchange and were startled when Olivia stood suddenly. She hadn't moved for the almost entire hour they had been there.

Don was startled as well when she walked slowly past him, looking like it took all of her energy just to put one foot in front of the other. She approached Lizzie and bent down in front of her. Reaching up, she stroked the long hair out of her face. A minute later, the girl was tightly in her embrace.

As Elizabeth sobbed, Olivia suddenly felt a presence near her. Glancing up over the girl's head, she found her brother standing at her side, looking like he was six years old again.

She removed an arm from around Lizzie hesitantly, remembering the young teenage boy who's father had been secretly devastated when he suddenly became "too old" to kiss him goodbye in public, and suddenly found herself hugging both of them.

Kathleen just stood. She looked like she was going to throw up.

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Casey dashed out of the elevator and almost barreled into Don Cragen. He looked shocked to see her.

"Casey," he said.

"How is he?" she asked worriedly.

When he turned to face her, she saw he was crying.

Once the initial shock of seeing that passed, she realized that the Stabler family was with him….all crying hard.

Her heart went to the floor.

_No…no, God. Please no. _

Her first thought upon meeting Elliot, shamelessly, had been "_damn I could go for a piece of that ass_". He was beautiful and she wasn't blind. But he was married, and though she was a lot of things, Casey Novak wasn't a home wrecker. But she still had enjoyed being able to look, even if she wasn't allowed to touch.

Their run-in with Judge Taft had been the first step toward friendship. She had been so angry with him that she had been tempted to leave his self-absorbed ass in the tank until morning to teach him a little something about controlling his tongue. But after bailing him, he had meekly apologized and offered to buy her dinner as a peace offering.

She had learned many things about Elliot that night. He was a great guy, surprisingly hilarious, and as much of an athlete as she herself was. She found out that he loved baseball, was a fantastic rock-climber, and had swum competitively in college. She would never have guessed.

Things went a lot smoother after that regarding the squad. Olivia had been a little snide at first because, Casey suspected, she thought that she was trying to horn in on her best friend. But, she also suspected, Elliot had said something to her about it, because she had become a lot friendlier surprisingly quickly.

"He's in the OR," Don said quickly, seeing the look on her face. "For now, we haven't been told anything yet."

She noticed Olivia hugging the twins as they both cried.

Numbly, Casey nodded and walked over to where the other two sat with a few officers she didn't recognize. They gave her acknowledging looks, but the fear on their faces was easy to see.

She felt like a softball had lodged in her chest.

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Nearly two hours later, the doors to the operating room swung open. A man in pale blue scrubs pulled a mask down to his neck and walked out toward the waiting room.

Elizabeth was sleeping in the chair next to Olivia. Maureen and Dickie were playing a quiet game of rummy in the corner. Kathy and Kathleen were dozing in chairs next to them.

Casey sat in a chair with her legs neatly tucked under her and was quietly flipping through a magazine she had found on one of the nearby tables. Olivia was dozing with her head against the wall, trying not to let herself fall completely asleep. Cragen sat next to Kathy and was holding her hand lightly while he struggled to stay awake.

Fin and Munch had finally gone for coffee about a half hour before, if only to keep themselves awake. They had brought back refreshments for everyone, but no one really touched them.

The other officers, at Don's insistence, had gone home an hour before. Captain Messing and Officer O'Hara stayed, and nothing any of them said could change their minds.

Not wanting to startle them, the man cleared his throat to get their attention. Heads snapped toward him and everyone jumped to their feet faster than he had ever seen before.

"Are you all here for Elliot Stabler?" he asked.

"Yes," an older bald man said, stepping up to him first. His anxious face looked exhausted and terrified at the same time.

The other people all crowded around, all wearing the same expression. He bit his lip and began to speak, then noticed suddenly that there were children in the room. He hesitated.

"Are any of you family?" he asked slowly.

A blonde woman spoke up quickly, stepping forward. "Yes," she said hoarsely. "I'm Kathy Stabler, his…" She hesitated for a moment. "His wife. These are our children."

If the others were surprised at her words, they didn't let it show.

The doctor hesitated again and looked to Maureen. "Why don't you four go ahead to his room?" he said kindly. "420. He's heavily medicated and will be sleeping, so please be as quiet as you can, ok?"

Maureen exchanged a bewildered look with her mother. Looking at the doctor again, she saw something in his eyes that told her now was not the time to question.

"Sure," she said softly, turning to her younger siblings. "Come on, guys."

Kathleen nodded, but Elizabeth and Dickie looked uncertainly at their mother.

"I'll be there in a minute," Kathy said, her voice soft too. "Go ahead."

The doctor waited until they were out of sight before turning back to the group.

"I apologize," he said. "But I don't think the children need to hear what I'm about to tell you."

"He's alright, though, isn't he?" a brown-haired woman asked, sounding frightened.

"I'm only authorized to speak with his family," the man said uncomfortably. "May I ask, what is the relationship with everyone else here?"

"We found him, Doc," a tall grey-haired man spat out viciously. "We're New York City police officers and Elliot is part of our unit. We're his family too, so like it or not, you're going to be talking to us."

The man nodded. "As long as it's alright with Mrs. Stabler," he said. "I have no problems."

She looked at them quickly. "Yes, please," she hurried to say. "It's fine."

He blew out a breath. "Alright then," he said. He paused. "Well, our primary concern was his breathing pattern, which was extremely irregular when he was brought in along with his pulse. We managed to get it under control, but he's going to be wearing an oxygen canulla for a while until he is strong enough to breathe normally."

Kathy held her breath and forced herself to listen to the rest of what he said. She had no clue about his condition, where he was found, or anything else of his rescue. All Don had told her was to get to the hospital because he was there.

"We had to set his right elbow, but thankfully it was a clean break and will only require a minimal cast. The metacarpal skeleton of his right hand was basically shattered and will require a number of reconstructive surgeries to fix," he continued. "Other than that, all of his joints work fine. A few of his other fingers and toes have frostbite, but thankfully not seriously enough to warrant any amputation."

Casey looked at the doctor in shock. He caught the look and feared for the reactions of what he was going to say next. He hadn't even hit the tip of the iceberg yet.

"Unfortunately, that is where the minor injuries stop," he said. "Are you comfortable for me to go on? I'm afraid what I'm going to say may be quite disturbing."

Kathy let out a small gasp and quickly tried to hide it. Don caught her eye but she refused to meet his gaze.

"Please, go on," he said hoarsely.

"His reproductive organs were severely mutilated. We had to suture the length of the penis and reconstruct a large portion of the urethra, leaving us no choice but to insert a catheter to expel the bodily fluids. We were able to stitch up the testicles enough to stop the bleeding, but a large portion of the epidermis will never be able to grow back."

He looked at them solemnly, focusing mainly on Kathy. "I'm sorry to say, but we may be faced with having to perform an emergency vasectomy once the stitches fall out. A good portion of the penis and inner thighs are covered in second-degree burns which will be excruciatingly painful for him when he wakes up."

She swallowed hard, tears swimming in her eyes. She couldn't speak. Seeing this, the doctor continued on.

"We put a light dressing on his back for the wounds there, but most of them were embedded to far into the skin for it to reach. Judging from the size and shape of a lot of them, it appears he was whipped with something, perhaps a chain of some sort."

Olivia saw spots. Mutilated. Whipped. Burned. What in God's name had possessed these animals to do this?

The doctor appeared quite uncomfortable now. "We, um…we removed the knife from his rectum…it was buried so deep that it nicked the colon and we had to stitch that area to stop the bleeding as well."

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Kathy shaking. When he looked at her, he realized she was sobbing quietly.

_Jesus, she doesn't need to be hearing this. _

"We have him on a powerful dosage of morphine and local anesthesia. He's still completely under right now and will most likely be that way for at least the next 72 hours," he said. "I'll allow you in there with the children, Mrs. Stabler, because of the circumstances….but I'm afraid the rest of you will only be allowed in one at a time."

He finally stopped talking and looked at them sympathetically. The group stood in front of him in stunned silence.

"I'm terribly sorry to have to deliver this kind of news," the doctor said. "Rest assured we will be doing everything we possibly can to help his recovery."

Still no one spoke.

"Excuse me," he said finally, and walked back into the operating room.

Kathy wiped her eyes and headed for the room after an uneasy glance at the rest of them. Don took a trembling breath and looked at the others, finally glancing toward Captain Messing and Officer O'Hara.

"You guys don't have to stay," he said. "Go home to your families...you've already done us the best possible service anyone ever could. We owe you a debt of gratitude that I know can never be repaid."

The two men looked at each other hesitantly.

"Please keep us informed," O'Hara said desperately.

"I promise," Cragen said immediately. "You're both at the top of the list. Please, go home. Get some rest."

When they walked toward the elevator, he turned toward the others.

"I know saying the same to you will be a waste of breath," he said softly, looking at them tearfully. There was a catch in his voice that proved he was struggling not to cry. "So I'm not even going to suggest it."

He plopped tiredly back in his chair and buried his face in his hands without another word.

After a minute, Munch and Fin joined him.

Olivia scurried down the hall and into the bathroom. Casey glanced after her, then back at the men. She followed.

When she opened the door, she found Olivia slumped on the floor, sobbing hard. She was so shocked she was momentarily speechless.

Slowly, she lowered herself down next to her and didn't speak, hoping her presence would be a bit of comfort.

Then the bubble inside of her burst and she began sobbing right along with her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Okay…obviously subtlety isn't a strong suit around these parts…so I guess I have to spell it out: Kathy and Elliot are not together in this story. Clear? Good. **

Taking a deep breath, Kathy gently pushed open the door marked 420.

The first thing she saw was Maureen, on the right side of the bed with her head on her father's chest. She was sobbing hard, her eyes closed.

Elizabeth stood by the wall closest to his head, also sobbing.

Kathleen was on the other side of him, standing next to the oxygen canister. Her head ducked low the moment her mother came in, but she saw the tears on her face anyway.

Dickie was across the room, standing against the wall with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He looked to be fighting the tears with every ounce of strength that he had.

Closing her eyes, Kathy remained in the doorway.

"Kids," she said softly, her voice shaking. "Can I have a minute alone with your father?"

Startled by her presence, Maureen's head shot up. She turned to look at her mother, her face swollen with tears.

"Mom," she choked out. "What happened to him?"

Her heart lodged into her throat. As she was trying to control the feeling of wanting to be sick, she noticed that the other girls and Dickie were all looking at her now as well.

"Pl-" The word caught in her throat and she cleared it. "Please, guys….please, can you give me a minute?"

Biting her lip, Maureen looked to Kathleen desperately. Shaking her head slightly, she reached out to Elizabeth and took her shoulder, guiding her toward the door. Kathleen did the same for Dickie.

Both of the oldest girls looked angry, but met her eyes when they passed her.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching out to touch Kathleen's cheek.

The children all filed out of the room.

The only sounds in the room were the beeping of the heart monitor and the slight rasping of the oxygen canister as it helped him breathe. Biting her lip, Kathy approached the bed.

She thought that the doctor's assessment would be enough to prepare her for the sight of him. But she was wrong.

Dead wrong.

It was all she could do not to burst into sobs when she laid eyes on him. She had to bit her lip hard.

His face was swollen to the point where it was almost unrecognizable. Both of his eyes were blackened and dark bruises mottled the flesh everywhere. An oxygen mask was over his mouth and nose, and every breath he took produced a wheezing noise. His head was draped across the pillow limply, and in his drugged state, he almost looked dead.

Shuddering, she quickly dropped her eyes.

His body was covered in a thick cream-colored blanket, and she could see a bit of the hospital-issued blue gown peeking out by his collar. His left hand was resting on the rail because of the IV's they had inserted, and she could see swollen indentations on his wrists and hands.

His left arm was in a cast and taped to the side of his body, also outside of the blanket. The hand was splinted with three of the fingers immobilized with thick metal rods.

Hesitantly, she reached out and placed a finger lightly on his forehead, afraid of hurting him. Her tears spilled out and she found herself heaving for breath between sobs.

"Elliot," she choked. "Oh, Elliot." She closed her eyes and lightly stroked his warm flesh. "You must be in so much pain." She almost gagged with the force of her sobs.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I wish…I wish…"

She sobbed hard, losing her breath momentarily. "I wish I could take your place…oh, I wish I could take your place."

She shook her head and fell silent, sobbing quietly as she stroked his forehead with her finger.

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For the moment, Don was alone. Olivia and Casey had disappeared some time ago and had not yet returned. Kathy and the kids were with Elliot. Fin had gone down the hall to stretch his legs. Munch had wordlessly taken the elevator downstairs and Don had no idea where he'd gone.

He rubbed his eyes wearily, startled when they burned. He checked his watch.

2:15 am. They had been at the hospital waiting since 11 pm.

Sighing heavily, he dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes.

Approaching footsteps startled him out of his light doze sometime later and he jerked his head up. Kathy was walking toward him, leading Dickie with her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes were swollen and he looked barely awake.

Kathleen walked slowly beside them, her expressed agonized. Maureen trailed them a few steps behind with both arms wrapped around Elizabeth. The younger girl was sobbing so hard that she could hardly walk.

Don stood up and went to meet them. "Kathy," he said softly, extending his hand out to her.

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. "I'm going to take these guys home," she said wearily. She looked exhausted. Reaching into her purse, she extracted a pen and scribbled onto a small scrap of paper. "This is my cell and the house numbers. Just in case you…" Her voice cracked and she cleared it. "Um…I'm coming back in the morning."

She looked at him desperately, her voice full of tears again. "Please, Don," she said shakily. "Please, if anything….please call. Please, anything…"

"Don't worry," Don interrupted gently, taking the paper from her. "Go get some rest, honey. I'll most likely be here a while…if anything changes, you'll be the first person I call. I promise."

She swallowed hard. "Thank you, Don," she said.

He moved forward and kissed her cheek lovingly, dropping a hand on Dickie's shoulder.

The boy looked up at him but didn't say anything. Don smiled sadly at him, shifting his gaze to the girls.

"Drive safe," he told her softly, kissing her cheek again. "I'll see you in the morning."

She smiled with great effort.

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3:10 am.

"You want some more coffee?" Fin asked gruffly, rubbing his eyes.

The captain shook his head silently without raising it. He was sprawled against the wall with his eyes closed.

Sighing, Fin dropped his head and rolled his neck, wincing at the immediate pops and cracks.

"You should go home," Cragen said softly, without looking at him. "You need sleep."

"So do you," he responded wryly, raising an eyebrow.

He didn't respond. Sighing, Fin leaned tiredly against the side of the chair.

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"Cragen."

Jerking awake, Don blearily attempted to focus, the whisper startling him.

Casey watched the recognition of his surroundings flood his face and waited until she had his attention.

"I'm going home," she continued quietly. "I have court at 9."

He lifted his watch automatically to his face, rubbing his eyes. 3:45 am. His back protested when he got to his feet and he groaned, leaning backwards to stretch the tense muscles.

Looking around, he noticed she was alone.

"Where's Olivia?" he asked quietly, noticing also that Fin was asleep in the chair next to him.

"Still in his room," she answered. "I told her I was leaving."

"How long have you guys been in with him?" he asked.

She pursed her lips, checking her watch. "About…twenty minutes, I guess." Her eyes welled up when she looked back at him. "Look…I-I'll be back as soon as the jury gives a verdict. Please….if-if anything-"

"I'll let you know if anything happens," he assured, knowing the rest of her sentence. He startled her when he leaned over and hugged her. "Thanks for being here, Casey. It means a lot to us, and I know it will mean a lot to Elliot."

She smiled softly as he released her. "Where else would I be?" she asked. She smiled again and dug her keys from the pocket of her jeans. "Goodnight, Captain."

"Drive safe," he replied, watching her go. "Goodnight, Casey."

When she got on the elevator, he turned and walked down the hallway.

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Olivia leaned her head tiredly down against her partner's shoulder and yawned widely thorough her tears, carefully shifting without moving. She was gently holding his right hand with her left, her fingers laced through his.

It had felt awkward and foreign at first. Never in all their years as partners and friends had she ever touched him intimately like this.

Casey had reluctantly left a few minutes ago, saying she had court in the morning. Olivia didn't remember saying goodbye. She didn't remember her leaving the room. She didn't even really remembering coming to the room in the first place. She was like a zombie.

But she wasn't moving. As long as no one came in and kicked her out, she would sit here until the day he came home.

"I hope you aren't in pain," she whispered, stroking her finger down his jaw. "I hope I'm not hurting you." She shook her head, the tears already soaking his hospital gown where she had her head resting. "I missed you so much, Elliot. I hope you know that….I hope you know how much we all missed you."

She swallowed hard, sniffling. "I know I've never said it…but I hope I've shown you how much I love you. You're the best friend I've ever had in my entire life." She sobbed. "I'm sorry I haven't been the friend you deserve. So sorry."

She had to struggle to speak. "I promise…you'll never have to wonder again how much you mean to me. I promise, Elliot. I promise." She sniffled and continued to stroke his cheek.

The heart monitor continued to beep. The oxygen tank continued to wheeze. His face remained in the constant grimace it had been in since he had been found.

She sobbed into his shirt, clutching his hand. "I'm going to be right here with you. I promise. No matter how long it takes…I'm going to be right beside you."

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A loud squeaking noise made Fin jump. He jerked out of sleep, his head flying forward off of the wall. His neck immediately protested and he winced, reaching behind him to rub the spot.

Bright sunshine was streaming through the curtains to his left. A nurse was wheeling a cart toward him and he heard the wheels squeak again.

Stretching groggily, he glanced to his right and saw the captain asleep in the chair next to him. Wearily lifting his wrist, he discovered that it was 7:35 in the morning.

Getting to his feet, he walked down the hall toward Elliot's room.

He knocked lightly on the door in case a doctor or nurse was in there and waited a moment. There was no response, so he gently pushed it open.

He immediately saw Olivia. She was in a chair next to the bed with head stretched gently onto Elliot's stomach. Elliot was still out cold.

She had to be uncomfortable sleeping like that. Quietly coming next to her, he shook her shoulder gently.

"Olivia," he said softly. He waited a minute. "Olivia."

She stirred, opening her eyes to look at Fin.

"Hmm?" she murmured, rubbing her eyes. "Wha-?" She jerked upright, startled. "What time is it?"

"Twenty to eight," he answered.

She looked to her partner and saw he was not yet awake. Her shoulders slumped.

"Why don't you go get something to eat?" Fin said, rubbing her shoulders.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "No, I can't."

"Come on, Liv," he insisted. "Stretch your legs, at least…get the blood flowing a little."

She bit her lip, looking at Elliot again and back at Fin.

"Alright," she agreed. She climbed to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute."

Fin watched her run a tender hand over Elliot's forehead before walking out.

Swallowing hard, he sat in the chair she had just vacated. Hesitantly, he reached out and took his friend's hand gently in his. His eyes welled up immediately and he took a deep breath to force the tears away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kathy and the kids came back at noon. John was alone in the waiting room and was surprised to see them.

"Kathy," he said, standing.

She smiled weakly at him. "Hi, John."

He gave her a light hug. "Hey, you guys," he continued, greeting the kids. "Don't have school today?"

The words flew from his mouth before he even thought about them. He cringed even before seeing their uncomfortable looks.

_Nice, asshole. Like they would be in school right now… "Yes, Mrs. So-and-so, please excuse the Stabler children to the office…they're going to visit their kidnapped father."_

"I-um…" Knowing his face was blood red, John cleared his throat. "Do-do you guys want anything? Soda, coffee, anything?"

"No, thanks," Kathy answered for them. She glanced down the hall. "Is it alright to go in?"

"I think the captain is in there now," he said. "I'll go get him…give you guys some privacy."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Why doesn't he wake up yet?"

The quiet words made John turn his head in surprise. He and Olivia had been sitting silently since Kathy and the kids had gone into his room.

She was looking at the wall beside her, her head turned away from him, but he could see the tears in her eyes as clear as day.

_Is she serious?_

She was exhausted. That had to be it.

No way would she otherwise be asking why a man who was beaten half to death and injured so severely that he required reconstructive surgery was still under.

After a minute, she looked at him, and John realized with shock that she was actually expecting an answer from him.

"Olivia," he said awkwardly. "He's going to be out…for a while. You heard what the doctor said….the surgery-"

Her sob interrupted him. He stopped talking and bit his lip.

She shook her head. "I-I know that," she whispered. She was obviously trying to control herself, but was not having any success. She shook her head.

"Liv," he said, pointedly, keeping his voice gentle. "Tell me what's really wrong."

Swallowing hard, Olivia ducked her head for a minute and shook her head again. Coming back up to look at him once more, she looked him square in the eye with tears blinding her.

"We make…our living…." She spoke slowly, her voice shaking. "Going after the worst scum to ever walk…on the planet." She took a deep breath. "Every day, we…we help so many victims…"

She sobbed again. "How do we do this, John?" she whispered. "I keep thinking that this is just like any other case." She suddenly rubbed her hands up and down her arms, like she was cold. "For the first time in my career, I….I'm drawing a blank."

John let out a breath. "I know," he said softly, biting his lip. He sighed softly. "Believe me." He shook his head, still biting his lip. His expression was anxious and he kept rubbing his hands on his pant legs. "It still hasn't…sunk in yet."

When he looked at her, she saw that tears were sliding down his cheeks. It startled her, to say the least.

"Nineteen years..." he said softly, his tone sounding like he was talking to himself. "Nineteen years in this unit…" His eyes were wide and glassy, like he was blind. "But it never really hit me…" His words became choked. "What the words 'Special Victim' really mean."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Casey stepped out of the elevator, her heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. She was still in her suit.

When she rounded the corner, she was a little startled to see Cragen, John, Fin, and Olivia all sitting in the waiting room chairs. They looked like they hadn't moved all night.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Don looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot and for the first time since she had met him, he looked old.

"Casey," he said, summoning up a weak smile. "Hi."

She dropped her purse to the ground and moved toward a vacant chair near Fin. "How's he doing?" she asked solemnly.

"We don't know," Olivia answered, her voice sounding robotic. "He hasn't woken up."

There was silence. Casey nodded awkwardly, afraid to break it. She discreetly checked her watch and nervously tucked her hair back again.

"Well, um…"she ventured hesitantly. "I can't stay…I have a meeting with my boss in thirty minutes. I just wanted to come by and see him for a minute…if that's ok."

"Kathy and the kids are in there now," Cragen said after a minute. "But I don't think they'll mind if you go in."

She wanted to ask if they wanted to go in first. But something told her not to.

"Thanks," she said softly, getting up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The tense quiet in the room was broken finally.

"I'm sorry, guys," Kathy said softly. "We need to get going."

Sniffles and sobs met her ears again and she closed her eyes briefly. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks and knew that they were soaking the collar of her sweater.

"We'll come back later on tonight," she said, her voice choked. "I promise."

Maureen stepped around Elizabeth and leaned her face down against his, closing her eyes. Choking on a sob, she grazed her lips across his forehead.

"I love you," she whispered tearfully, squeezing his hand gently.

Biting her lip, she stepped out of the room quickly without meeting her mother's concerned gaze.

Kathleen went next, kissing his cheek softly.

"Hang in there, Dad," she whispered. She squeezed his hand too. "We're all waiting for you." She bit her lip and kissed him again. "Love you."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and approached the bed as her sister stepped away. She bit her lip hard, determined to keep her composure.

It didn't work. The moment she looked down on him, she burst into tears again. It hurt, so bad…her father was just lying there, so helpless. He was never helpless. Never.

She felt her mother's arms around her waist.

"It's alright, baby," she whispered into her hair. She was crying too. "He's strong. He'll be alright." Her heart was tugging even as she tried to comfort her daughter. She didn't know what she was saying.

Dickie sniffled quickly and tried to disguise the fact that he was crying. "I'll be out in a minute, Mom," he said.

Kathy nodded. For some reason, her son always insisted on being alone when saying goodbye to his father.

"We'll be in the waiting room," she said.

He nodded and waited for them to disappear from sight. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the bed.

"Hi, Dad," he whispered. His eyes were swimming with tears but he was refusing to let them fall. He had to be tough. His dad was always tough. He reached out, his hand shaking, and hesitantly laid it onto the still chest of his dad. "When you wake up, I'll bring you a chocolate shake…with a little bit of vanilla mixed in. Just how you like it…just how I do too."

His voice cracked and he cleared it quickly. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. He wasn't.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The noise was unfamiliar. Everything felt so…strange. He was so dizzy that he could feel his pulse throbbing underneath his eyelids. He wanted to open them, but they were so heavy…

When he took a breath, he instantly felt something over his mouth and nose. He couldn't take a full breath.

Starting to panic, he struggled to open his eyes, to move. His arms were restrained.

The beeping noise became louder. Terror coursed through him.

_Please, please make them go away. Please, God...please._

All of the sudden, his instincts went into overdrive and he froze, the hairs on his arms standing up.

Someone was leaning over him…someone was touching him. He started to shake. It was…it was…he could smell him. He could smell him….he was right over him…

_No…not again. _He struggled wildly, terrified. _Please no!_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sound of screaming echoed into the waiting room.

Olivia jumped, her head crashing against the wall.

Munch and Fin were already racing down the hall in the time it took her to get to her feet.

Casey jumped, stopping in her tracks. Horror flashed over her features. She saw figures rushing past her and recognized Olivia through the blur.

Kathy whipped around so fast that she nearly fell.

"NO, PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! **STOP!**"

Olivia's heart raced as they got closer to his room. Dickie burst out, sobbing hard.

Kathy rushed to her son. "Dickie, what happened?" she asked frantically. "What happened?"

He ignored her, pushing past her and taking off down the hall. Another scream jerked their attention back.

Olivia flew past them and into the room. He lay rigid against the bed, sobbing hard.

Through the partially opened door, John saw her rushing to his side. He was screaming and crying.

His heart sank as he let the others go past him and stood still.

So far, they had only been teetering on the brink of destruction. Now that he was awake….they would be traveling to the pits of Hell, and there would be no turning back.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**AHH! No Emmy for my man Meloni! NO! Excuse me a minute…..let me wipe the tears off of the keyboard…**

**I know it was only his first nomination and it was Mariska's….fourth?...but still, it just feels so…wrong. They can't give an Emmy to one and not the other! That's like giving Bert his own spin-off series and giving Ernie the job of holding cue cards for the director. It just smarts!**

**I was made aware of a typo in my previous chapters. Sorry to confuse you…it is Elliot's right hand that is broken. What can I say…I didn't do very well in kindergarten.**

**On to a more serious note- as I have said, the story has really just begun. There is still a lot of darkness yet to come. I sincerely hope no one is scared away.**

His eyes were wide with panic as he gasped and choked against the oxygen mask. Olivia hurried to the bedside and gripped the flailing hand as it banged against the rail.

"Elliot," she said firmly, her voice huskier with panic. "Take a breath…**relax** and take a breath." She pressed both hands to the side of his face for emphasis. "In…out…in…"

He looked up at her, terrified, as he obeyed her. After the panic of not being able to breathe was gone, he burst into sobs.

"Shh…shh, honey. It's okay." Her tone instantly became gentle and she ran her hand up his face gently in time to her words. "You're safe, now, sweetheart...shh." She lowered her voice as he became hoarse. "Shh…it's okay. It's okay."

He whimpered and clung to her hand as tightly as his swollen one would allow.

A sniffling noise from behind her made her jump. She realized suddenly that Kathy was in the room too and turned slightly toward her.

Kathy stepped around and to the side of Olivia. She was sobbing, her chest shaking. Reaching out, she reached for his hand and Olivia let go immediately.

Elliot was shaking now. His hand was wet and trembling in hers. She watched his beautiful blue eyes dart to hers and saw a look in them that she had never seen before.

"Ol…Olivia," he whispered chokingly, tears falling slowly onto his cheeks. He whimpered, his eyes darting around frantically. "Olivia."

Olivia's heart went to her feet and she closed her eyes briefly.

Kathy's expression was shocked and stunned. She stood frozen, her face turning pale.

He began to cry again, pulling at her hand.

"Olivia," he sobbed, starting to gasp again. "Olivia."

Her face crumbled and she let go of her hand. She stumbled to the side and turned away quickly, beginning to weep.

Olivia felt horrible for her, but her first instinct had her going to him. She cupped his face with both of her hands and leaned in close to him.

"Shh…I'm right here, Elliot," she said calmly, stroking over his forehead. "Everything's alright. I'm not going anywhere." His grip on her hand was gradually loosening as the spurt of panic left him exhausted. His eyes were heavy and he fought to keep them open. She lowered her voice to a soothing whisper. "I'm right here…I'm right here."

She continued to stroke his forehead until he finally gave up and sank back into oblivion. Her heart ached with a vengeance as she gently took her hand away. Sighing, she braced herself and turned around.

"Kathy-" she began softly, turning to look at her.

She stopped short.

Kathy was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He ignored the started faces of the nurses and strangers he passed…he hardly even saw them. His chest felt like it was caving in.

He kept running toward the elevator, feeling light he was floating. He didn't know where he was going. He just had to get out of this place…._now_.

As he stabbed the button frantically, he heard someone calling his name, but he ignored it and pressed again.

_Come on, damn it…come on…_

"Dickie!"

The male voice was suddenly right by his head, and the next thing he knew a hand was over his on the elevator button.

Cragen gently pushed the boy's hand away from the button and held his own over it.

"Dickie, hold on," he said breathlessly. "Son, wait a minute…"

Anger welled up from a place he had never felt before. Before he even realized what he was doing, he was yanking the older man's hand off of the button.

"Stop it, Captain Cragen," he said with clenched teeth. The doors opened and he ran inside the car, quickly stabbing the button to close them.

Don was shocked when he felt how strong the boy was. Quickly darting in the car, he held the doors open with his hand.

"Dickie, come out of there," he continued gently. He held out his hand. "Come on, buddy…talk to me."

"**I SAID STOP IT!" **he screamed.

The captain fell silent. Dickie looked shocked at his own voice.

They were facing off tensely. Don had the doors open with his hand and Dickie was backed against the wall of the elevator. They both stared at each other silently.

Dickie collapsed to the floor.

Immediately coming into the elevator, the captain pressed the button to hold them at their floor and the doors closed.

"Dickie," he said softly, kneeling down next to the sobbing child. He gripped his shoulder lightly. "Come on, buddy. Talk to me."

"I…I did-didn't me-mean to," he stuttered breathily through his tears. "I wa-I wasn't try-trying…trying…"

Don gathered him in his arms and hugged him tightly. Dickie was limp in his embrace, still sobbing hard.

"Come on out here with me," he said gently. "Okay? Just you and me…tell me what happened." He patted his back. "Will you do that?"

The boy didn't respond except for another sob. He took a hiccupping, gasping breath and finally nodded.

"Okay," Don said quietly, relieved. He released him and stood up, offering his hand.

Dickie gripped it and let the captain pull him up before quickly pulling away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kathy came out of his room sobbing. The girls were standing next to the door with Munch and Fin and looked shocked.

"Mom," Maureen said worriedly, looking at Kathleen in fear. "What-?"

"We have to leave," Kathy sobbed, pulling her keys from her purse. "Come on, girls."

Her daughters remained where they were, looking terrified. "I said we're leaving!"

"Why?" Elizabeth burst out, her voice high-pitched and scared. "What happened, Mom? What's the matter with Daddy?"

Kathy's face was screwed up painfully and she suddenly doubled over, clutching her knees. She was sobbing so hard that her face was red.

The girls were standing still and looked terrified. Fin and Munch looked at each other in alarm. John hesitantly stepped toward her.

"Kathy," he said timidly, reaching out to grip her shoulder.

He was shocked when she slid limply to the floor, her back against the wall. She shook her head and continued sobbing.

"Why?" she gasped painfully. She sobbed again. "This…he-he…" She couldn't even speak.

Munch looked up at Fin. His partner immediately read the look in his eyes and turned toward the three girls.

"Hey," he said softly to them. He reached for Kathleen's shoulder. "Why don't we go downstairs….get something to eat?"

Kathleen was the first to look at him in fear and shock. Her expression clearly told him that she wasn't going to.

"Please, guys," Munch said quietly.

He looked desperately at Maureen and pleaded with his eyes. Maureen bit her lip, stifling the rest of her tears, and nodded finally.

"Come on, you guys," she said hoarsely, nodding at her younger sisters. "Let's go."

Elizabeth looked at her in fright, not wanting to leave her mother. Maureen met Fin's gaze and blinked her understanding. He nodded slightly in relief.

"Come on," she repeated, gripping Elizabeth's shoulder.

They reluctantly left with Fin.

"Kathy," Munch said, kneeling carefully down. He lowered himself to sit beside her.

The woman was shaking. She raised her head, sobbing, and looked at him in agony.

"He wants her, John," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. He could hardly understand what she was saying. "He keeps asking for her….he just wants her!" She started sobbing again.

John swallowed hard. He had no idea how to respond.

After a minute, he hesitantly leaned forward and took her into a loose hug. She immediately threw her arms around him and sobbed. over here," Don said, looking around for a minute.

He led them into an empty corner of the waiting room, away from the general hustle and bustle of the hospital. Dickie sat down in a chair against the wall, wiping his eyes, and Don moved a chair in front of him.

"Alright," he said gently, leaning forward. "Tell me what happened."

The boy sniffled and gulped loudly, wiping his eyes again. Sighing, he took a deep breath. "I was talking to…to my dad," he stammered.

"Uh-hmm," Don said, nodding encouragingly.

He swallowed again. "And…I-I went to give him a kiss goodbye," he said. "I-I don't usually kiss him, but…but.." His words began to tumble over each other. "He…I didn't think he was awake." Tears fell down his cheeks and he swiped quickly at them, sniffling. "I leaned over the bed and he…he started crying."

His chest began to heave with pent-up sobs as he closed his eyes, still horrified. "I saw him cry once, but…but not like…like that," he said, breaking down again. "Then he…he was screaming." He dropped his chin to his chest and sobbed hard.

Cragen bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Dickie," he said gently. "Are you wearing any type of cologne right now?"

The boy jerked his head up, looking startled and bewildered. When he saw that Cragen was being serious, he sniffled quickly.

"Um…n-no," he said after thinking a minute. "Well….I put on some Axe body spray before I left the house this morning. But no…no cologne."

_Bingo._

"Ok," he said softly, dread flattening his voice. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he was going to say. "Uh…Dickie, you know that your dad was…was kidnapped."

He nodded confirmation, still looking puzzled.

"The men who took him are very mean," Don continued slowly. He bit his lip hard. "So you have to realize…right now, he's very scared."

The boy's eyes suddenly turned frightened. He looked years younger. His voice, when he spoke, was shaking. "He…he is?"

Don closed his eyes. "Yes," he said softly. "Yes, he is."

Tears filled Dickie's eyes again. He sat quietly for a long time.

"He was ok when my mom and sisters were in there," he said, tears sliding down his cheeks. He looked devastated. "It's me….he's scared of me." He began to sob again, bowing his head. "My dad is afraid of me."

The captain's eyes were pained.

"What most likely happened is that when you bent down to kiss him, he smelled your body spray and thought you were one of those men." He swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "It's not his fault, Dickie. Please understand that…it's not his fault. He's scared right now."

He received no response. Dicke sat silently and cried, his body shaking.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The door opened. Olivia turned around to see a doctor coming inside.

"Is everything alright in here?" he asked quietly, looking at Elliot in concern.

She sighed, turning back toward the bed.

"Yes," she said, running a finger over his brow lightly. "I'm sorry about that…everything's fine now."

He nodded. "I'm just going to check his stitches, make sure there's nothing that needs repair," he said. "I'll be just a minute."

She nodded but made no move to leave. In fact, she moved closer and took what looked to the doctor like a protective stance next to the bed while he went about his business.

Cragen approached the doorway and waited quietly, watching the doctor from behind them.

"No damage," the doctor reported, giving her a gentle smile. "Everything is where it should be."

She nodded but didn't have the strength to return the smile. "Thank you."

He nodded and walked out of the room, acknowledging Don with a smile also as he passed him.

Sighing sadly, she leaned down and picked up his hand again. Cragen went in slowly.

"You get him calmed down?" he asked softly.

She didn't even turn to acknowledge him. "Yeah," she said shortly.

He stepped quietly beside her and looked down at Elliot. She was surprised when he leaned down and tenderly ran his hand over Elliot's forehead.

"Where's Kathy?" she asked quietly, glancing over at him.

"John took her and Dickie downstairs with Fin and the girls to get a snack," he answered.

She didn't reply. After a minute of listening to the heart monitor beeping, he sighed, lifting his hand and laying it on the railing.

"Olivia," he said quietly. She immediately became alert. His voice was full of dread. "Sooner or later….we're going to have to ask for a rape kit."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart contract.

"We…we've got the guys in custody," she said weakly, not even believing her own words. "There's no need for that….we've got them."

The captain knew that this wasn't Detective Benson talking. It was Olivia talking.

"Olivia," he said gently. "You know that's not going to cut it."

She swallowed hard. "He can't," she said shakily. "He…he can't do it, Captain. It's too much."

The captain leaned down again and gripped Elliot's hand gently in his, curling his hand around his fingers. They listened to the beeping again.

"He can't?" he said quietly. He looked up and met her eyes. "Or we can't?"

She bit her lip, blinking back tears. Her shoulders began to shake.

"I'm scared, Captain," she whispered finally. She looked at him squarely in the eye. "He's never going to be the same again."

Cragen sighed shakily and nodded.

"You're right," he said hoarsely.

He looked back at her and the two brown gazes seemed to battle each other. He broke eye contact first and turned back to the bed. They resumed the silence.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**This story has become such a deep part of me that I am truly shocked. I never expected to grow as attached to it as I have. Though I do enjoy using the characters we all know and love, my main focus in sharing this is to spread the word.**

**The upcoming chapters are a personal tribute to those who were my inspiration in creating this piece. Through your courage, the eyes of the world are being opened to the fact that violent crimes do happen to all genders and racial groups. I sincerely hope that I will do you justice as I continue.**

**Please help me show my support for the real-life heroes…share your thoughts in a review. Please, even if it is just one word…here's to breaking 200 reviews for the cause.**

The elevator doors opened and Olivia stepped out. She walked slowly toward the cafeteria.

As she pulled open the door, it was pushed from the other side. Startled, she jumped back quickly and narrowly missed being smacked in the face by the glass paneling.

Kathy jumped back too, looking mortified.

"Oh…" she said awkwardly, stepping to the side. "Olivia…I'm sorry."

She gripped the blonde's arm gently. "Kathy," she said, softly. She raised her eyebrows pleadingly. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Kathy pursed her lips and sighed nervously, her eyes darting to the wall beside her. Olivia could see the internal struggle as it flashed across her face. After a minute, she turned to look behind her.

Olivia followed her gaze and saw the children walking toward her, wearing their coats.

Kathy's eyes flitted back to hers and she bit her lip again.

"Here," she said, digging into her pocket. She withdrew a set of keys and looked to the two oldest. "One of you go ahead and drive my car. I'll be home in a little bit."

Kathleen looked at her in surprise but reached out to take the keys. "Sure," she said, looking at Maureen, who shrugged. "We're coming back later, though, right?"

"Yes," she replied patiently. "After dinner…I promise."

Nodding, Kathleen moved past Kathy. "Bye, Olivia," she said.

Olivia smiled. "Bye, you guys," she replied as they all passed her.

When they were out the door, Kathy swallowed hard. "Let's…go sit down," she said awkwardly, meeting her gaze for a minute.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The elevator car was silent as they ascended back to the fourth floor.

Munch stood next to the panel of buttons and stared at them as each one lit up. Fin leaned against the wall on the far end and stared at his shoes.

The door opened and they both stepped off. John took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as they walked.

"Guys," an anxious voice said from the distance.

Fin had to do a double take before he recognized the woman walking toward them. Wearing a grey sweat suit, her hair long and curly around her shoulders, Medical Examiner Melinda Warner looked like a completely different person.

She strode up to meet them, her dark eyes shining with concern.

Sticking his glasses back on, Munch also did a double take before grabbing her into a loose hug.

"Hi, Mel," he said softly.

"Hi," she replied. "How's Elliot doing?"

Fin pursed his lips sadly. "The doctors have him on steady Morphine right now," he answered quietly. "He's been under since last night."

She nodded, biting her lip, as they moved toward chairs and dropped wearily into them. Observing them for a minute, she joked lightly, "When's the last time either of you saw a razor?"

"Too long," John murmured without humor.

Fin didn't reply at all.

Blowing out a deep breath, Melinda gave up trying to be light and leaned toward both of them.

"Forget that I'm a friend for the moment," she said softly, her tone matter-of-fact. "I'm asking as a medical professional….how is he?" She stared at them intensely. "Tell me the truth."

John shook his head. "He's awful, Melinda," he said heavily.

Her eyebrows jumped at the brusque comment.

"They mutilated his genitals and raped him with a knife," he continued. "The doctors predict having to do an emergency vasectomy because they found second-degree burns on his genitals and thighs."

Melinda felt her stomach rise to her throat.

"So…" he said angrily. "How does it sound to you like he's doing?"

She stared at him for a minute and lowered her eyes. Fin glared daggers at him.

He sighed and rubbed his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching out and touching her knee gently. "Melinda, that was out of line. I'm sorry." He rubbed his eyes briskly. "I haven't had much sleep lately."

She raised her gaze again, shrugging it off with the no-nonsense tone that they all knew well from her. "No foul," she said, easily. "You look like hell." She glanced at Fin. "You both do. Have you been home at all?"

"We haven't been out of these clothes at all," Fin deadpanned, leaning back and closing his eyes.

She looked at them sympathetically, but chose not to take the matter any further. She looked around. "Is anyone else here?"

"Olivia and Cragen are around somewhere," Fin said. "Kathy Stabler and the kids are downstairs…they should be leaving soon, though. Casey's been here a few times."

She nodded. "I told my lab assistant to clear my schedule for the day," she said. "I'll stick around for a while."

"If you want to go to his room, it's 420," Munch said softly, leaning back against the wall too.

She nodded as they all fell silent.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Don sat in the chair next to the bed with his hands clasped on his knees, his eyes watching the steady rise and fall of Elliot's chest as the oxygen canister helped him breathe.

His eyes traveled over the still face to the machines hooked up to the bed. The heart monitor kept beeping as the IV's continued to sustain the nourishment he needed to survive.

His heart ached with a fierceness that made it difficult to breathe. His earlier conversation with Olivia haunted his thoughts.

_We think it's bad now…just wait until he's awake. _

He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that because of the high-profile nature and media attention that had surrounded the entire thing, the prosecution process was going to be hell. It made him sick to his stomach to think about all that would have to be done in order to get a fair chance at a conviction for his kidnappers.

A rape kit.

An official statement.

A line-up.

Trial prep.

A testimony.

What made it worse was that they were going to have to be the ones to subject him to it all. There was no way in hell Don was going to let anyone else do it. So in order to help him, they would have to break him.

He only hoped that Elliot's breaking point wouldn't be theirs as well.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Both women were having difficulty meeting each other's eyes. Olivia was intently studying the cuffs of her black pants while Kathy had apparently found something fascinating on the wall beside her head.

After about five minutes, Olivia finally broke the stalemate.

"Look, um…" she said, sighing softly. Their gazes locked and she saw the fear in Kathy's eyes. She wondered if her own looked that way. "Kathy, about…about what happened in there-"

"I'm sorry," Kathy blurted out without warning, startling her. She shook her head, running a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry I ran out like that." Her voice shook. "It's just…seeing him like-when he…." Her words began to jumble. "I panicked."

Olivia looked at her sympathetically. "I understand, believe me."

She sighed. "Seeing him so afraid…it-it broke my heart," she said, her voice beginning to waver. She swallowed hard to fight the tears that were coming. "But…he-he looked right at me. He looked r-right at me…and it was like he didn't even know me."

Dropping her head, she gave up and began to cry quietly.

"It's not his fault, Kathy," she said softly. "What he's been through…." She had to fight the shudder creeping through her. "I don't think he really understands who any of us are right now."

"He knows you." The sentence tumbled out before Kathy even realized it, and the bitterness in her voice was evident. Her eyes widened immediately when she realized she had spoken out loud.

Olivia felt like she had been sucker punched.

"I'm sorry," she amended quickly, looking to Olivia desperately. "I know…I know that sounds horrible and I really don't mean to be that way." The pain in her eyes couldn't be masked, though. "It just…it hurts."

She dropped her gaze to the table. "I know what you all think about me," she said quietly. "Hell, half the precinct probably hates me….no one understands just how hard this is." Her tears dropped into her lap as she refused to look at Olivia. "I made the choice to leave and I have to face the consequences. I just miss him…so much."

Her voice cracked and her shoulders began to shake as the sentence dried up. She didn't speak again.

Olivia swallowed hard and spoke hesitantly. "He misses you too, Kathy," she said. "You really…have no idea. You're on his mind every minute of every day."

Her head came up and she sniffled, wiping her eyes quickly.

"When he said your name, it was like the world fell beneath my feet," she said, her voice stronger. She shook her head in defeat. "I still love him more than life itself." Tears dripped down her cheeks. "And I can't even be there for him. You…you've got something that I'll never have. That I never _have_ had. His trust."

Olivia's eyes closed and Kathy fell silent. For a long time, they didn't speak. Finally, Olivia broke the stalemate.

"Kathy," she began. She paused, taking a deep breath. Her voice came out even and controlled, her jaw set, as she stared right into her eyes. "I'm not going to pretend to know how you feel. I'm not going to insult you by saying I understand, because really, I can't."

Kathy was surprised to see anger creeping into her voice.

"Everyone is finding some way to make this about them," she continued. Her teeth clenched slightly. "This is not about us. None of this is about us." Her breath began to hitch as her temper flared. "I may not be his partner in the same way you are his partner, and I may not love him the say way that you love him…but God help me…he makes up half of my soul. And regardless of how you may feel about that…I would give sacrifice anything in the entire world if it means keeping him safe and happy."

She swallowed hard. "You need to know….his recovery is going to be worse than any of us can imagine." Kathy saw something flash in her eyes that she swore was fear. "And some of the things he needs…Kathy, I hate to be blunt about it, but you aren't going to be able to give them to him."

Kathy felt her heart drop to her feet.

Olivia kept her eyes on Kathy's. "I need you to know that I would never, ever betray you or Elliot," she continued cautiously. "I would never do anything to stand in the way of your feelings for him." She was almost begging her now. "Please…I need you to understand that. He is my best friend and I will do whatever it takes to help him…but I swear I will never stand in your way."

The other woman was quiet for such a long time that Olivia began to hear her own rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears. But she didn't try to break the silence. Her cards had been laid out. Now it was up to Kathy to do the same.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The phone vibrated against his hip and startled John out of his light doze. Sitting up quickly, he reached for it and got to his feet. He went over near the elevators and answered it.

"Munch," he said gruffly.

"John, our time is getting short here." He recognized Detective Briscoe's voice at once. "I've tried Cragen and he doesn't answer…we've already gotten calls from four different attorneys for these guys. We're not going to be able to hold them here much longer."

Something that felt like a rock wedged into his throat and made it difficult to draw a breath.

_We're not ready for this. We can't do this yet. We're not ready for this._

"John?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, struggling to speak coherently. "Yeah…um…ok, I'll…give me a minute to talk to Cragen. I'll call you back."

He snapped the phone shut and stood motionless for a minute.

Their lives had been put on hold for the last month and they were all still feeling the effects, but now it was crunch time. Their priorities were being tested and the choice they made had the potential to destroy all of them.

It was ultimately going to prove what the Special Victims Unit was made of.

Taking a deep breath, John slipped the phone back into his pocket. After a quick glance at the waiting room, he turned and began to walk toward room 420.

_Ready or not…here we go._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Don quietly closed the door and turned to face the detective.

"What's up?" he asked.

John had a look of dread on his face as he began explaining the situation. When he was finished, he looked to his superior officer anxiously.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

The captain closed his eyes.

"_He can't? Or we can't?_

The detective stood silently and waited.

Finally, Cragen opened his eyes again and looked John right in the face.

"The only thing we can do right now," he answered gravely. He swallowed hard. "Our job."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The waiting room had started to fill up after a while, but the corner they were sitting in remained for the most part unoccupied.

Melinda wasn't really sure if Fin was asleep or not, but either way she didn't want to bother him in case he was getting some rest. Munch had gotten up earlier and gone off somewhere down the hall, so she resigned herself to simply sitting quietly.

The past month had obviously been harder on the detectives, but she'd lost plenty of sleep over this as well. After almost five years of working with the team, she regarded each of them as a personal friend.

Hearing about the abduction had shocked and terrified her more than anything she had ever experienced before. She, more than any of them, had seen firsthand the sick work of the men who had taken him. Nightmares assaulted her almost every night, replacing the faces of the nameless victims with his. The thought of having to perform an autopsy on the body of Elliot Stabler made her sick.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention back to the present. Shaking herself, she looked up. Munch and Cragen were walking into the waiting room.

Fin must not have been asleep after all, because he jumped to his feet immediately. Seeing the looks on their faces, she did the same.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Cragen sighed. "We have to get back to the precinct," he said softly. "In a little over ten hours, we're not going to be able to legally keep the men in the holding cell anymore. We need to figure out our next move." He looked around. "Is Olivia back yet?"

Fin shook his head.

"Go get her," he ordered. "She needs to be here for this."

Without a word, Fin walked to the elevator. Cragen shot John a look and he quickly followed after him.

"Melinda," he said, startling her. He turned and looked into her face. His expression made her nervous. "Do you have a minute?" He sighed heavily. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The three of them returned a few minutes later. Cragen and Melinda were waiting for them.

"Where's Kathy?" he asked Olivia.

"She went home," she said tiredly. "She's coming back tonight, though."

He nodded curtly. "I need to get to the station," he said. "We've got to sort out this mess before anything has a chance to get screwed up."

"I'm not leaving, Captain," Olivia said. She set her jaw in determination. "I'm sorry…but I won't leave him."

He held up his hands. "That's fine," he said. His tired voice made her instantly regret her harshness. "You don't have to." He looked to the other two. "None of you have to. Just keep your phones on in case anything happens and I need you." He pushed the button for the elevator.

"Captain, hold on," John said suddenly. He moved toward the elevator too. "I'm going."

Cragen stared at him a minute but didn't argue. Fin looked to Olivia and back again.

"Me, too," he finally said.

The captain looked at her immediately to see if she was alright with it. She nodded.

"Go," she said, waving them off. "It's fine. Keep me posted."

The elevator swallowed them up and then they were gone.

Blowing out a breath, she began walking toward his room. As she passed the waiting room, a voice called out her name. Startled, she turned and was shocked to see Melinda  
Warner.

"Hey, Melinda," she said in surprise as the black woman walked up to her. "You didn't have to come all the way here."

Melinda embraced her gently. "Of course I did," she replied softly. Pulling back, she scrutinized Olivia carefully. "How are you doing?"

She sighed tiredly. "Fine," she answered. She gestured down the hall. "Have you gone in to see him?"

"No, not yet," she said. Olivia began to invite her to go ahead and she cut her off nervously. "Um…can-can you hold up for a minute?" She saw the surprise in her eyes. "I'd like to talk to you."

Her eyebrows shot up, but Melinda looked so earnest that she couldn't refuse. "Sure," she said, moving toward the chairs.

They sat down and Melinda turned slightly so that she was face-to-face with her.

"Olivia," she began slowly. She hoped her voice didn't show that her heart was racing frantically with nervousness. "Um…Cragen talked to me while you guys were downstairs."

Her hands were beginning to shake slightly and she clasped them tightly to hide it. She could tell that she wasn't doing a very good job because Olivia looked at her in concern.

"Melinda," she asked worriedly. "What's-?"

"Olivia, he asked me to do a rape kit for Elliot," she blurted out in a rush.

The blood rushed from the detective's face and her stomach fell to her knees.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, Melinda. _No._"

The black woman looked at her sympathetically. "Olivia-" she began gently.

"He's not ready," she interrupted frantically. "He's not ready."

She looked up to meet the concerned eyes of the medical examiner and broke. Her head dropped and she sobbed hard, unable to control the pain.

"I'm not ready," she whispered in agony.

Melinda squeezed her eyes shut. She gently moved over and took her into a hug. Olivia shook her head, but didn't try to push her away.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Her legs were curled up awkwardly in the chair underneath of her. Her neck ached from where she had it stretched on the mattress. Her back was so stiff that it would later take almost ten minutes just to be able to stretch it fully.

Olivia groaned softly at the soreness that seemed to have taken over her body while she had been passed out against the bed beside her and slowly sat up straight. She gingerly stretched her arms over her head and yawned.

Something on the floor beside the chair caught her eye. Yawning again, she reached down gingerly and lifted it up. It was a brown paper bag. Attached was a Post-It note:

_Sorry, no fries…Lays were the best I could do. Please call me if you need anything._

_618-3763_

_M. Warner_

She reached inside and pulled out a small bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, a plastic wrapped sandwich with a label from the cafeteria, and a can of Dr. Pepper.

Her smile stretched all the way to her eyes despite her weariness. _God bless her._

A thought suddenly occurred to her. Melinda had said she would be sticking around for a while…what time was it? She jerked her watch toward her face and squinted blearily at the numbers, starting when they became clear.

2:17. God, she had been asleep in that chair for almost four hours. No wonder she was sore.

She leaned forward to give her back some relief and winced as the muscles protested. Blowing out a weary breath, she rubbed her face and glanced at the bed.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when blue eyes met hers.

Gasping in surprise, she was out of the chair in two seconds. _How long has he been awake?_ Coming to the side of the bed, she looked down into his face.

"Liv?" he croaked.

"Hey," she whispered. Her hand came up instantly to wrap gently around his. "Hey, Elliot."

He looked disoriented as he stared up at her. His mouth was curled lazily, giving off the appearance of an almost half-smile. He blinked slowly, the exhaustion evident in his face.

"Where…huh…where am I?" he slurred, his voice sounding almost drunken.

She stroked the soft skin of his hand and forced herself not to look at the indentations. "You're at the hospital," she said softly, squeezing gently. "But everything's ok. I'm here."

He took a deep breath, his nose making a sound almost like a snort behind the mask. His eyes rolled slowly to the other side for a minute before coming back. He began slowly turning his head toward her and groaned softly, freezing.

"Relax…don't try to move," she said urgently, squeezing his hand again for emphasis. "Hold on. I'll call the nurse."

Her free hand was already pressing the button above his head before she even finished the sentence.

A woman in brightly-colored scrubs appeared almost instantly.

"Is there a-?" A pleasant smile lifted the nurses' features and she stopped mid-sentence. "Wonderful… he's waking up. I'll go get a doctor."

Turning back toward him, Olivia brought her other hand down to clasp his. He had sunk back against the pillows, his eyes half-closed.

A few moments later the nurse returned with the doctor.

"Well, well," he said warmly. "Look who's decided to grace us with his presence." His green eyes were bright and friendly as he looked at Olivia with a smile. "I'm Dr. Robert Beck."

He stuck out his hand and she shook it. "Olivia Benson."

The nurse was fiddling with something on the oxygen canister as he stepped up beside the bed. Olivia moved out of his way without moving from her position.

Elliot blinked sleepily up at them as the doctor checked the IV.

Dr. Beck gently lifted the oxygen mask. "Elliot, how are you feeling?"

His gaze was watery and dilated. "I…" His eyes closed tiredly. "I don't know…" Confusion was evident in his voice as he opened them again. He looked first at the doctor, then Olivia, then the nurse before blinking groggily.

The doctor laid the mask down on Elliot's chest and lifted the stethoscope to his ears. "Elliot, I'm going to listen to your chest, okay?" He leaned down to place the bell on his skin.

Olivia braced herself, but nothing happened. He didn't flinch, he didn't panic…he didn't react at all.

"Take a breath," he instructed softly.

He began to inhale and suddenly Olivia felt her fingers being crushed. He gasped painfully.

"Hurt?" Dr. Beck asked.

He clenched his teeth and nodded, a low moan escaping from his throat. Olivia stroked his hand again in reassurance and tried not to let her emotions show on her face.

The doctor reached lower and began slowly rolling up the hospital garb. Once again, Elliot didn't react at all. He seemed confused, if anything. Beck continued up until his stomach was exposed and tucked the fabric over Elliot's chest.

She had to stop the gasp from escaping. His midsection was covered in deep, mottled bruises.

_How did we miss seeing those on the way to the hospital?_

The doctor began gently probing around, lightly pressing his fingers into the bones and working his way down. He immediately felt it when Elliot stiffened as he got to the ribcage.

A soft hiss was heard as he sucked in air. Her fingers were crushed again.

As carefully as he could, Dr. Beck worked his way around and felt the ribs. Once he was done, he continued down to the belly button before finishing.

Olivia felt him relax when the doctor withdrew his hands and rubbed her fingers comfortingly over his knuckles.

"You've got a couple of bruised ribs there," Dr. Beck said. "It's going to make breathing uncomfortable for a little while, but it's nothing to panic about." He rolled the shirt back down. "Other than that…does anything feel sore at all? Any burning, stinging…anything like that anywhere, Elliot?"

"Mmm…" he grunted. "I…don't know."

The doctor nodded. "Okay," he said patiently. "I'm going to give you another round of painkillers and we'll take it from there, okay?"

Olivia was unnerved by the tone of the doctor's voice. He sounded like he was talking to a three-year old. She wondered suddenly if that's how she sounded when she interviewed victims.

The nurse stepped out of the room for a moment and returned with a small tray.

"Oxycodene, thirty-five CCs," he said, glancing down at the chart attached to the foot of the bed. "Twenty milligrams of codeine."

She nodded and injected two needles into the IV.

Dr. Beck stepped away from the bed and looked at Olivia's concerned face. "The anesthesia should be wearing off sometime in the next few hours," he said softly to her. "The drugs I just administered are going to knock him out pretty fast…but if he starts to feel any pain, the button for the morphine is right here." He showed her exactly where it was.

"Alright," she said uneasily. She bit her lip and looked down at him again.

The doctor smiled. "His confusion is nothing unordinary," he said kindly. "He's so drugged right now that frankly I'm surprised he was even able to talk to us."

She started a little; it was like he had read her mind. He smiled again and touched her shoulder gently before leaving them alone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Here."

Fin was surprised to see someone holding out a cup of coffee the minute he stepped through the squad room doors.

"Thanks," he said to the detective as he set the cup down on his desk.

He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of his chair as he glanced around. Judging from the empty spot on the coat rack and the pulled blinds in the office, he realized he had beaten Cragen and Munch to the precinct.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the door opened and they both walked in.

Munch accepted the coffee he was offered tiredly, but the captain waved it off and headed straight for his office.

He pulled out his key and inserted it into the lock only to find it already open. Puzzled, he stepped inside and saw the light was on. Then he noticed an unfamiliar coat hanging on his coat rack and immediately became suspicious.

"Who-" he began, turning around.

He almost collided with a tall man who had suddenly appeared directly behind him. The man stepped back quickly.

"Captain Cragen," he said. "Sir, I'm Lieutenant Dave Barry from Brooklyn SVU…my captain had me come here to stand in so that you could be with Detective Stabler if you needed to." His eyes and face were anxious as he hurried on. "I tried to stay out of your office unless absolutely necessary…I just got here last night."

"Where are we?" Don demanded, almost cutting him off. "I need details."

"We've got all seven in the holding cell," he said. "They were here when I got here. An officer…um…." He squinted as he struggled to recall the man's name. "Faze, I believe his name was, from the 2-2 in Staten Island…he assisted in bringing them in. He told me about the bust and everything."

"How long have they been in holding?" he asked.

Barry pursed his lips in thought. "Going on…about thirteen hours now."

"Any of them use a phone?" he continued harshly.

"No," Barry replied, somewhat taken aback back the tone. "At least…not to my knowledge. We took their personal effects…none of them have cell phones on them."

"Then why are we dealing with lawyers already?" he snapped in frustration.

The young man's eyebrows shot up anxiously. "Um…I-I'm not sure, Captain," he said. "The phones just starting ringing and wouldn't stop."

Cragen closed his eyes wearily. "I apologize, Lieutenant," he said. "I'm tired…I'm sorry to snap at you." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many officers are down there with them?"

The look the other man gave him was pure guilt.

"There's no one down there?" he asked in disbelief.

Barry grimaced.

"Go _get_ someone down there," he said quickly. "Right now…get two or three. Now."

"Yes, sir," Barry said instantly. He was out the door in almost two seconds.

Sighing heavily, Cragen went around the desk. As soon as he did, he saw that the top was almost covered with messages from defense attorneys.

He groaned out loud and shoved them to the side.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Five hours.

Five hours since she had eaten the food that Melinda had brought for her and she was so restless that she thought she might scream.

Elliot was completely gone, trapped in the deepness of drug-induced sleep that no human alive had the capability of breaking through.

The thought of sitting back in the chair made her want to cry. Standing against the wall beside the bed was making her legs tired. It took a conscious effort to fight the instinct to start pacing the room.

"Olivia?"

The unexpected voice made her jump and whip around toward the door. Kathy and the girls stood in the doorway.

She smiled warmly, glad for the distraction. "Hi."

Kathy entered the room first. "Hi," she replied, smiling back. She had a duffle bag on one shoulder, which she slid to the floor.

The three girls came in behind her. Olivia noticed the heavenly smell that floated toward her before the Burger King bag Maureen was holding.

"We stopped for dinner on the way here," she said. Smiling, she held the bag toward Olivia. "We got you a burger and some fries."

Surprise flashed on her face for a moment as she took it. "Thank you," she said. "You didn't have to do that."

Kathy fixed her with a knowing look. "Come on…when's the last time you ate?" At her sheepish expression, she grinned. "That's what I thought."

Kathleen had gone to the bedside. "How's he doing?" she asked softly, a morose expression on her face. She slipped her hand gently through the limp one of her father.

The atmosphere sobered instantly.

"He woke up around two o'clock this afternoon confused," Olivia said. "But he said he wasn't in any pain." She grimaced. "Then again, he didn't know where he was….the doctor gave him some more medicine to knock him out for the night."

The other two girls had moved to stand beside the bed while she spoke. It suddenly occurred to her that Dickie was absent and she wondered idly why she hadn't noticed before.

Kathy looked toward them sympathetically before facing Olivia fully. "Why don't you go home, Olivia?" she asked compassionately. "You look exhausted."

She was, but the thought of leaving made her heart suddenly pump hard.

"I'm planning on staying the night here with him," Kathy continued. "You deserve some decent sleep."

_Yeah,_ she thought darkly. _I deserve decent sleep. He's spending his first night away from being tortured and brutalized. How much decent sleep do you think he's going to be getting?_

But she had promised. She had looked Kathy right in the eye and promised that she wasn't ever going to stand in her way. She was being totally and completely selfish. Kathy had the right to spend the night alone with him.

Still, her heart felt like it was being shattered as she finally conceded. "Alright," she said tiredly. "I do need a shower."

"Ger some rest," Kathy said. "I'll call you first thing in the morning, I promise."

It was then that Olivia realized that she didn't have a car. The past two days were a complete blur.

As if reading her mind, Kathy said, "Maureen drove the girls here. She'll give you a ride."

Maureen nodded, turning toward them.

"Thanks," she said softly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John walked toward Cragen the minute he came out of his office.

"What are we doing, Captain?" he asked urgently.

"Nothing," he replied sternly, looking pointedly at both him and Fin. "You two are going home to get at least twelve hours of sleep." Seeing the looks on their faces, he rushed on, "And don't even think about arguing. I will take both of you off of this case."

Fin shook his head angrily but didn't say anything. John looked at his partner in outrage and turned to Cragen again.

"What the hell- you can't do that!" he exploded. "God damn it, those bastards down there-"

"Aren't going anywhere!" Don bellowed over him. John stopped talking mid-sentence and looked at him angrily. The captain softened his tone and his expression immediately. "Look, Lieutenant Barry is handling things here. I explicitly told him that no one is to approach any of the men in the holding cell other than to change watch shifts and that any more calls from attorneys are to be held until tomorrow morning."

He looked at his two detectives squarely and raised his eyebrows. "I am exhausted. You are exhausted. I just spoke to Olivia and made sure she does the same." He held both gazes. "Right now, I have been told, our main concern has been given drugs to knock him out for the night."

John slid his eyes closed and Fin looked at him somberly.

"Are you going, too?" John asked softly, not meeting his eyes.

Cragen looked at him. "Of course," he answered. "Let's all get some sleep and we'll take it from there, alright?"

Fin sighed and looked at his partner. John shook his head in defeat.

"Alright," he said quietly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She stood under the warm spray and rolled her neck slowly, sighing blissfully at the deep pops that elicited. Running her hands through her hair, she massaged in slow circles and tried to relax.

Bending forward, she let the water run down her back as she stretched down to her toes. The pops from her spine made her groan and she placed her hands on the small of her back to rub the area. Once all of the knots and kinks were gone, she straightened up again.

Her hands were spread on the wall as she let the water stream around her.

"_Don't leave me…don't leave me!" _

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

_She was clawing the fabric desperately, searching for his hand. The chopper blades above them beat the air with such brutal intensity that she could feel it in her stomach. _

"_Shh, honey." His screams pierced her heart. She placed her lips next to his ear and stroked the freezing skin of his face in a panic, her voice anxious. "It's ok, you're safe now. Everything's ok."_

_He opened his eyes then and the fear in them made her feel like she was dying._

Her chest began to heave as the salty tears began streaming down her face.

"_Olivia!"_

_She jerked with all of her might and felt like her hand was being ripped off._

"_ELLIOT!" she screamed tearfully, watching the van speeding away. Sobs began making her gasp for breath. "NO! NO!"_

Sobbing, she opened her eyes and was startled to find herself sitting on the floor of the bathtub.

Blindly reaching forward, she wrenched the water off. The pounding spray disappeared and she leaned forward, clutching her knees.

She managed to lean over the drain before her dinner came up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kathy jerked awake, her legs sliding off of the footrest awkwardly. The warm quilt she was wrapped in fell off of her shoulders and onto the floor. Her heart raced in confusion.

His sobs were hard and terrified. In the dim light streaming under the door, she could see him almost doubled over.

She got to her feet and was at the bedside in milliseconds. She fumbled above her for the light and couldn't find it. He sobbed harder. In a panic, she took her cell phone from her pocket and opened it so that the light would illuminate the bed.

"Elliot," she said anxiously. She leaned forward onto her toes and draped herself almost on top of him so that she could wrap her arms around him. He was shaking almost spastically. "I'm right here, baby." Tears choked her voice as she struggled to project calm. "Shh…you're alright. Everything's alright."

Holding the phone behind his head, she was finally able to see the switch and quickly flipped it on. Harsh white light lit up the room, making her see spots.

Dropping the phone on the table, she leaned back and sat down as best she could on the bed. She brought her body forward and enveloped his, pulling him into her.

He gasped, trembling so hard that she almost had to lock her arms around him. She circled his neck, rubbing soothing circles into the tense flesh, and stroked gently through his hair.

He leaned forward and buried his face into her hair, inhaling. She felt his arm slip around her neck suddenly.

"Kath," he breathed. "Kath."

Tears of relief and love flooded down her face before she could stop them. She kissed his neck gently, caressing his neck with her hands.

"I'm right here," she whispered again. "Everything's alright."

His face dropped down to her neck. An involuntary shiver coursed down her spine when his lips grazed it gently. Swallowing hard, she stroked through his hair tenderly.

The last time she had done this was when Elizabeth was ten and watched _The Blair Witch Project_ after being forbidden to see it. Kathy had grounded her and five hours later she woke up screaming from a nightmare. Kathy had to rock her to sleep like when she was a toddler before she relaxed.

She could only remember one time in twenty years when she had done the same for her husband and it was right after he had become a police officer. He went to his first murder scene that day and woke up screaming that night. She had never, ever seen him cry that way before.

He shivered violently, sniffling. She felt his tears dropping inside the collar of her sweater. "I'm so- so cold," he murmured, trembling. He gripped her so tightly that she could feel his nails digging into her skin and sobbed. "It's so cold."

She wrapped her arms tenderly around his back and began rubbing viciously. "It's okay, angel," she said, her voice choking around her own tears. She gulped quickly, reaching down to retrieve her blanket from the floor. Her hands shook with anxiety as she wrapped it around him.

"Nice and warm," she soothed, caressing his face. "There we go…nice and warm."

His breath shuddered as he buried his face into her again. She closed her eyes and began rocking him back and forth, gently humming into his ear.

"You are My Sunshine."

The song she so often sang to their children when they were little. Yet as she rocked the man she had given herself to twenty years ago back into sleep, she had never meant the words more.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John sat under the warm covers and stared out at the dark sky. It was particularly overcast, the moon hidden by thick grey fog.

He was exhausted. He would be the first to admit it. But he had given up on sleep a long time ago. Now he was resorting to clock-watching until morning.

Every time he tried to relax, his mind would become haunted with the image of Elliot lying under that pier. Never in his wildest nightmares had he ever seen anything so horrifying.

Sleep was most likely going to be out of the equation for a long time to come.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The cell phone rang next to her head and she startled awake. She was shocked to see sunlight streaming through the windows. She had actually slept.

How in God's name that was possible, Olivia hadn't a clue.

She glanced at the clock as she turned around to reach for the phone. 7:45 am.

"Hello," she said thickly.

"Good morning," Kathy said.

She sat up straight, all traces of sleep fleeing her body in a minute. "Good morning."

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked.

Olivia slid her feet to the floor. "A little," she answered, picking up her jeans from the floor. "How about you?"

Kathy glanced over at Elliot fast asleep, wrapped in her quilt. Her heart ached at the memory of earlier that morning.

"Enough," she allowed. She paused a moment. "Um…I have to get home and get the kids off to school. Are…are you planning-?"

"I'm leaving in ten minutes," she interrupted. "Have you had breakfast?"

"No," Kathy answered, surprised. "No, I haven't."

"Bagels ok with you?" Olivia asked, pulling a sweater over her head

"Olivia, no," she protested. "You don't have to-?"

"How do you take your coffee?" she persisted.

Kathy sighed and shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Two creams, one sugar," she said finally.

Olivia smiled too. "Bagel?"

"Plain with cream cheese," she answered. "Thank you."

She picked up her keys. "See you in a bit."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He reversed out of the driveway and headed for Manhattan, pulling out his cell phone.

"Manhattan Special Victims Unit," a voice answered. "Lieutenant Barry."

"It's Cragen," Don said briskly. "Any more calls last night?"

"Um…yes, sir," Barry said, picking up the handful of slips awkwardly. "Four."

_Christ._ Biting his tongue to keep from cursing aloud, he said, "I'm on my way in now." He paused. "When are you due back in Brooklyn?"

"I'm at your dispose, sir," he answered immediately. "However long you need me, I'm here."

He was somewhat taken aback. "Thank you," he said finally. "That…that means a lot to us."

Barry smiled warmly. "You're welcome, sir."

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Olivia knocked on the door and stepped back. Nurses bustled around her, conducted their morning rounds, as she shifted the container of coffee to her other hand.

The door opened to reveal a disheveled Kathy. Her hair was a mess and her clothes looked slept in.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Olivia answered. She held out the container sympathetically. "You look like you need one of these."

She sighed and took it from her. "Thanks," she said tiredly, as they both came back inside.

Olivia set her coffee and the bag down and went over to the bed. Her mouth tugged down sadly as she gazed into his sleeping face.

"Morning, partner," she whispered.

She smoothed a hand over his cheek and trailed down to tuck in the ends of the blanket. She remained there a minute before stepping back.

"Thank you," Kathy said, indicating the bagel in her hand.

She nodded, smiling. "You bought me dinner last night," she said warmly.

Kathy grinned and took a bite. "Mmmm," she groaned. "God, this tastes wonderful."

Olivia took a sip of coffee, relishing the strong taste. "How was your night?" she asked, looking toward the bed for a moment.

She didn't miss the way Kathy's face suddenly drooped.

"Long," she finally said. At Olivia's concerned look, she elaborated, "He had some pretty bad nightmares." The sadness in her voice couldn't be avoided and Olivia's heart sank.

An uncomfortable silence fell.

"Well, look, um…" Kathy said after a minute. She looked at her watch. "I need to be going…"

"Oh, sure," Olivia said quickly. "Please, don't stay on my account. You go do what you need to do."

Kathy bit her lip, looking to the bed again.

"I'm taking a half day at work," she said. Her eyes were shining as she looked at Olivia. "Will you be here with him?"

She nodded.

Kathy sighed shakily, swallowing. "Um…my-my number-" She dug clumsily in her purse for a scrap of paper and pen, scribbling on it hastily. "Here's my number there…in case…"

Olivia took it and squeezed the other woman's hand warmly. "Don't worry," she said softly. "Go….go home. You've done more than enough."

She closed her eyes a minute. After taking a deep, composing breath, Kathy nodded. She went over to the bed and brushed a tender kiss across his cheek, whispering something in his ear that Olivia couldn't hear.

"I should be back at around 1:30," she said softly, collecting her bag.

Olivia nodded.

Looking back at him one last time, Kathy glanced at Olivia and left the room.

Turning back around, Olivia sighed and took another sip of coffee before placing it on the table. Then she went to the bedside again.

Pursing her lips sadly, she gently stroked his cheek.

"Excuse me."

She turned around fast. Doctor Beck smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry to startle you, Ms. Benson," he said.

"That's alright," she said, embarrassed. "I…I guess I'm just jumpy." She came toward the doctor as he stepped into the room.

"Is Mrs. Stabler still here?" he asked.

"Um..no," she answered. "She had to go to work." She didn't like his expression. "Is something the matter?"

Dr. Beck pursed his lips for a minute. "Well…" he hedged. "I was going to talk to her about performing the emergency vasectomy. She did say I could talk you, though…"

"Please," she jumped in. "I'll make sure she knows everything….please, go ahead."

He nodded. "The anesthesia is going to be completely worn off by the time Elliot wakes up," he said. "His genital area is going to be in a tremendous amount of pain, and I'm worried what that added stress will do to his breathing…those bruised ribs don't need much pressure to make them pop."

His green eyes were bearing into hers. "I would recommend that we go ahead and perform the operation while he is still under to minimize the pain he's going to feel afterward."

She sucked in a breath. Her mind immediately went to the one thing that had been plaguing her the entire night.

There was no way around it. Not now. Her heart began pounding viciously and she thought she might be sick.

She noticed the doctor staring at her quizzically and shook herself out of her thoughts.

"Um…um, I-I….of course I don't want him to be in pain," she said. "Whatever you have to do to make sure he's not in pain…" She swallowed nervously. "But, um…before we do anything…I-I'm going to have to make a couple of calls."

"Oh, of course," Doctor Beck said immediately. "Take all the time you need…I just needed to let you know." He saw the look of panic on her face. "Tell you what…I'll give you a few hours to think about it. Does that sound alright?"

She shook herself again. "Oh-um…sure, sure," she said nervously. "That's fine. Thank you."

The doctor left the room.

Olivia felt the tears rushing up and swallowed hard to stop them. She closed her eyes for a minute and then pulled out her phone.

Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the scrap of paper and dialed Melinda Warner.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Please don't give up…I know this is long and frustrating but please stick with me. Reviews dropped for the last chapter. For those of you sticking it out, I give you my sincerest thanks and ask that you continue. **

Fin stepped through the squad room doors quickly, pulling off his coat.

His partner turned around and fixed him with a wry smirk. He could feel the other man's eyes following him as he hung up his coat and went to his locker. When he got to his desk, he could no longer pretend to ignore him.

"You sleep?" John asked, his voice showing a trace of the dry humor that had been nonexistent for the past month. His brown eyes were sharp behind his glasses.

He raised his eyebrows in exasperation. "Hell no, I didn't sleep," he burst out, surprising himself with his own candidness. He looked at Munch pointedly. "You did?"

The glint was gone in a second and replaced once again with the heavy sadness that weighed the older man's face. "I didn't say that," he said sharply.

Fin tried to hold his gaze, but his partner turned away from him.

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"I understand that," Melinda said lightly, worrying the telephone cord around her finger. She fought to keep her voice steady. "But we both know that the evidence needs to be as accurate as possible, Olivia. I strongly suggest that we do it before the surgery to avoid any complications."

She listened to the silence on the other end patiently, knowing just how hard the detective was struggling to keep from crying on the phone because she was doing the same thing.

She loved her job as a medical examiner…the dead could tell such fascinating things about life that it was mind-blowing sometimes. She loved having the honor of working in the medical profession. But she was terrified of the living victims. It was the one aspect that she avoided whenever she could.

From day one, she vowed to herself to never place herself in a situation where she knew a corpse outside of a number and slab position. It made sure that she remained detached and professional.

This breached every boundary of every single worst-case scenario she could have ever conjured up.

The deep breath from the receiver startled her back to reality.

"Alright," Olivia said shakily. She could hear the detective literally choking as she breathed. "Come…come down when you can. I'll let the doctor know what we've decided."

"How does an hour and a half sound?" she asked softly. "That will give me time to get what I need from the lab."

There was a long pause.

"Fine," Olivia said uneasily.

She was startled by the sharp click. It took her a minute to get composure. She placed the phone back in the cradle and lay back against the pillows.

Closing her eyes, Melinda said a prayer for strength for herself and for Olivia…but most of all, for Elliot.

He had the hardest job of all of them.

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She bit her lip as she waited for Kathy to absorb all of the information.

"Is he awake?" she finally asked softly.

Olivia looked at the bed again. She had seen Elliot stirring as soon as Kathy had picked up but it had been too late to abort the call.

"Yeah," she said, keeping her gaze on him. His eyes shot to hers the minute he heard her voice. "He's starting to wake up."

Kathy leaned her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes, feeling tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Can you wait for me to get there?" she asked desperately.

The school bell rang suddenly outside and she jumped. Shouts of children scurrying across the parking lot echoed through the closed windows. She was thankful that hers were already inside the building and couldn't see her.

Olivia bit her lip. "Doctor Warner is on her way now," she said, checking her watch. Her voice was hesitant and frightened even though she tried to keep it strong. "She should be here any minute…"

"I'm his wife!" she cried in a sudden burst of emotional outrage that horrified her.

_Ex-wife_, she could almost hear Olivia thinking. It rang in her own head loud enough that she was surprised she didn't say it herself. She cried harder and leaned back in agony.

Olivia closed her eyes sympathetically, feeling her throat closing.

_It's not about us. None of this is about us. It's not about us. We don't get to pick the vic._

She had to chant the words in her head before she could breathe again.

She respected Kathy. She wanted more than anything in the world to let her be there for Elliot. But she wasn't first priority and never would be. Her heart, soul, and character rested in the bed across from her. He came first no matter what the cost.

"Please, Kathy," she said softly. "The doctor's aren't doing anything until you get here…please, it will only be harder for him if you're here. Let us do the exam and then we'll schedule the surgery for after you get here."

She waited and listened to the other woman's stifled crying on the other end of the line. She didn't speak, knowing that nothing she could say would make this any better.

"Al-alright," Kathy finally sobbed. "I'll…I'll come afterward." She broke down again as soon as the words left her mouth.

Hot tears freed themselves and slid down her face. "Thank you, Kathy," she whispered. She sobbed softly, unable to hold it in any more.

"Call me?" she whispered desperately.

"The second we're done," Olivia promised. "I swear on my life."

She shook her head and dropped the phone to the ground. Her head came back down to rest wearily on the steering wheel.

At that moment, she knew what it felt like to die.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Forty-eight hours," Don snapped into the phone. The vein in his forehead was pulsating dangerously close to explosion. "The law allows forty-eight hours before the initial reading of charges."

Lieutenant Barry's gaze was transfixed on the wooden receiver in the captain's hand. He was just waiting for it to pop in his tight, squeezing grip.

"Yeah?" he said rudely after listening for a minute. "Well, you're going to wait twelve hours and fifty-_nine_ minutes more." He narrowed his eyes, listening again. "Don't bother…it's spelled C-R-A-G-E-N. Capitalize it…and add a giant 'fuck you' to the end. Happy waiting."

The phone slammed down into the cradle so hard that Barry felt the desk vibrate. He stood across the room and didn't utter a sound.

Don was breathing so hard that he was almost growling. He was so sick of hearing asshole defense attorneys demanding that they be allowed to converse with the men in holding. Fuck every last one of them. He wasn't giving an inch this time. If he had a say about it, all seven of the bastards downstairs would already be experiencing rigor mortis.

"Can I do anything, sir?"

The hesitant voice across from him made him remember Lieutenant Barry's presence. He sighed shakily, counting to ten slowly, and forced his jaw to unclench.

"No, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "I'll handle it from here. You can take a break."

The younger man stood unmoving, looking at him in indecision.

_Get out…God damn it, I don't want to yell at you. Get out before I say something I'll regret later._

Barry nodded finally. "Alright, sir," he said softly.

He turned slowly around and left the office, shutting the door gently behind him. Cragen breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head in defeat.

_Thirteen hours…you've got thirteen hours. Get it together, damn it._

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"Please," he whispered through clenched teeth. His back was arched and almost locked. "It hurts…it hurts."

Olivia winced tearfully from her position next to the wall, clasping his hand and stroking it. "I know, sweetheart," she said, anxiously eyeing the nurse as she continued to turn up the morphine drip. "She's giving you medicine right now…it's coming right now."

"It will only take a minute to kick in," the woman said compassionately, stepping back from the IV pole. "Breathe…breathe. It will only take a minute."

He was holding his breath, writhing painfully. His face was red and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Breathe, honey," Olivia said, cupping his face with her other hand. "Elliot, breathe…that's it, just breathe. In…out. In….out."

The morphine finally began working. He trembled and sniffled, exhaling tearfully as the pain started to subside at last.

"Thank you," Olivia said to the nurse.

"That should last him at least four hours or so," the woman said. "But if it starts to wear off, let me know."

She nodded and the nurse left. She came closer to him, shifting his hand in hers. He sniffled again and she suddenly saw a small trace of tears on his left cheek.

"How does that feel, Elliot?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand. "Does it feel better?"

"Yes," he said breathlessly. He closed his eyes briefly. "Thank you…thank you."

Tears welled in her eyes and she felt her throat closing. He was thanking her. He was _thanking_ her after being given morphine to take the pain away.

White spots began appearing before her eyes.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't do it. There was no way she was going to be able to tell him about the rape exam.

He was going to shatter right in front of her and it was going to be her fault.

Christ Almighty God….she couldn't do it.

He inhaled through his nose and the sound produced was almost like the whistle of a fall wind. His eyes were glassy and dazed from the drugs.

She bit her lip hard and had to take several deep breaths quietly to keep her emotions in.

The cop wanted to do everything humanly possible to put away a group of men who were worse than any scum scraped from the face of the earth.

But the best friend wanted nothing more than to erase every memory of the pain and fear he had endured and make sure he never had to face anything like them again for as long as he lived.

For eight years, she had taken on both roles and been successful. But it was impossible this time. She had no choice…she had to sacrifice one.

But which one?

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Her eyes carefully lifted to watch where she was walking while she concentrated on not spilling coffee on her lilac jacket. She vainly blew on the beverage in hopes it would cool down quicker, as she was craving the caffeine fiercely, and struggled to balance the purse on one shoulder and the files she carried with her other hand.

It figured that the hallway would be exceptionally crowded on the one day she replaced her lidded Starbucks to-go cup with an open Styrofoam one from the vending machine.

Her heels were not very high, but she suddenly had nightmare visions of stumbling and having scalding hot liquid soak through her thin camisole. Gracefulness was definitely not a high branch on the Novak family tree.

She reached her office door and stopped in front of it, leaning against the glass so that her knee would support the files. She cautiously moved the coffee to her other hand and attempted to dig for her keys.

Her hand closed around the thin metal at precisely the moment her purse slipped from its precarious perch. Something was going to drop and she was suddenly faced with a split-second time bomb… the coffee or the fifty-plus page document that made up her entire case.

Her attempt to keep the files from sliding off of her knee caused the purse to fall toward her elbow and the coffee cup swung dangerously close.

Just as she was starting to panic, the coffee cup and files were taken from her. She reached out instinctively to grab her purse, sliding it back up, and turned to meet the eyes of her boss.

He gestured for her to unlock the door and waited until she turned the light on before he handed the coffee back to her. Carrying her files, he followed her into the office and set them onto the desk.

"Thank you so much," she said in relief and a hint of embarrassment. "That had the potential to get very ugly."

District Attorney Arthur Branch cracked a small smile. "I was never a juggler, either," he said, his deep baritone sounding as imposing as always.

She smiled, but the guarded look in her eyes was easy to see. An early morning visit was never a good thing.

"Do you have a minute, Casey?" he asked, reading her thoughts and her expression easily. His demeanor had turned serious almost immediately, making her more nervous. "I'd like to talk to you in my office."

_Oh, boy._

The coffee was forgotten instantly and she had to stop herself from chewing on her lip, a nervous habit engrained over long years of getting into hot water with her father, teachers, and friends.

"Yes, sir," she said as smoothly as she could.

She followed him back out of the office, locking it behind her again.

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"Hey."

Officer Charlie Dawson didn't even spare the men in the cell across from him a glance as he continued reading through his newspaper.

"Hey," he repeated, sidling up to the bars. "Do they pay you to look that way or are you guys all this ugly?"

The page turned, the paper crinkling softly.

He shared a smirk with the others, a few of them snickering. Encouraged by the reactions, the man leaned ever closer.

"Hey," he said. A naughty grin spread his lips. "Tell your mom I had a great time last weekend."

Dawson coughed softly, crossing his legs at the ankles. His expression furrowed in concentration as he read the sports scores.

The others were cracking up. The man grinned at them and licked his lips.

"Yo," he said. "I have to pee." When the officer didn't respond, he pounded against the bars. "Hey….I said I have to pee!"

"Life sucks," Dawson said idly, scratching his nose. His eyes were still on the paper. "Get over it."

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His breathing was relaxed and even for the first time since she had arrived as he leaned against the pillows, his hand lazily laced through hers.

He looked up at her. His eyes were wobbly and he was so woozy that he couldn't even lift his head, but at least he wasn't in pain. She would take him completely unconscious as long as he wasn't in pain.

She squeezed absently against his palm.

_Thank God for morphine._

The room was silent, but not awkward. He seemed content and she didn't try to make conversation.

The knowledge of what she was about to do made her insides so tight that she almost couldn't breathe. She knew how much it was necessary, but it still felt like betrayal.

She heard him take a deep, lazy breath and looked down at him.

He smiled drunkenly. "Hi," he said.

Olivia chuckled affectionately. "Hi," she replied in amusement.

His eyes drifted shut and he sighed contentedly. She shifted carefully to ease the pricks of numbness in the hand he was gripping but didn't let go.

She let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes too.

She wasn't sure how much time passed, but a soft rap on the door startled her eyes open again. Sitting up quickly, she looked over at the open doorway and met the eyes of Melinda Warner.

Her heart began to race immediately and bile began to creep up her throat.

_Think about him…you're doing this for him…think about him…_

"Hi," she said hesitantly, looking uncertainly at the bed.

His eyes opened instantly and shot over toward the new voice, his hand tightening on hers suddenly. She squeezed it reassuringly and took a deep breath.

"Hi," she answered, forcing a smile.

The black woman came further into the room, her medical bag swinging slightly on her shoulder. She smiled gently.

"Hi, Elliot," she said warmly. "How are you?"

He looked at her hesitantly as he shifted slightly upward, inadvertently tugging hard on Olivia's hand for a minute.

"Okay," he said after a minute.

Melinda glanced at Olivia. Seeing the look on her face, she realized that he had no idea what they were about to be doing.

The room became uncomfortably quiet. The grip on Olivia's hand had suddenly become tight, and she could feel his pulse racing.

She glanced at Melinda again and she raised her eyebrows slightly. Closing her eyes, Olivia turned to face Elliot and scooted closer to him. He looked surprised as his gaze shifted from Melinda's to hers.

She brought her hand up to clasp his in both of hers and took a deep breath.

_Sink or swim time._

_God, please keep me from sinking._

"Elliot," she said gently, as soothingly as she could. She squeezed his hand. "I…" She bit her lip. "There's...something we need to talk to you about."

The heartbreak on the detective's face was painfully obvious. Melinda closed her eyes briefly, silently sending strength to her while praying deep inside for her own.

His eyes began guarded as he searched hers.

"Okay," he said hesitantly.

_God damn it…**don't** fall apart right now. Do not fall apart. Do. Not. Fall. Apart._

"We need you to let Melinda examine you," she asked. She gripped his hand tightly. "Please…will you let her examine you?"

His face screwed up for a minute. He looked at her in confusion and panic, glancing anxiously at the black woman quickly before going back.

"Why?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. "I thought…" He swallowed hard. "I thought the doctor already did." His eyes darted to Melinda once more.

Olivia swallowed hard. "She…she did," she said thickly. "But…" She took a shuddering breath. "Elliot, please….will you let her do it too?" She blinked rapidly and squeezed his hand tighter. "It's very important, honey."

His face screwed up again, sending another knife through Olivia's heart, and he looked at her with fear plain on his face. She looked back desperately.

"Will-?" His voice was higher now, panicked. He swallowed hard. "Will it hurt?"

The medical examiner answered quickly. "I promise to be as gentle as I possibly can." Her face was open and vulnerable, something he had never seen before. "I'll try my best not to let it hurt."

Olivia squeezed his hand again, looking from Melinda back to him. He began breathing deeply through his nose and she realized he was on the verge of tears. Gently laying her hand across his cheek, she rubbed gently.

"I'll be right here with you, sweetheart," she said painfully. His eyes closed desperately with each stroke of her hand. "I promise you, I'm going to be right beside you."

Melinda waited patiently, feeling her heart breaking.

He shuddered, leaning into her hand. "I….I don't want to," he said weakly.

She closed her eyes for a minute, trying not to cry.

"I know, honey," she said softly. She was fighting the tears so hard that her face had started to grimace. "I know you don't…I'm so sorry to put you through this." She stroked his cheek again. "We really need to do it, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

His expression turned to misery and she wanted to die for having put it there. He shook his head and winced, looking terrified.

"Alright," he whispered weakly.

Olivia looked to Melinda and nodded. The sudden darkness in her eyes was surprising and intimidating. The message was clear.

Do it fast.

She reached to take the bag off of her shoulder.

"Alright, Elliot," she said gently. She made sure to keep her tone light and her face warm. The cardinal rule for performing the procedure….make sure the patient is comfortable at all costs. She spread the necessary items on the table beside the bed. "The first thing I'm going to do is take some blood."

She moved to his side with the needle. Olivia scooted out of her way, coming closer to his head. He was clutching her hand so tightly that her knuckles were starting to turn purple. She squeezed reassuringly, stroking over the skin.

Melinda gently probed around the crook of his arm, squeezing firmly to raise a vein. She inserted the needle smoothly and began drawing blood into the cylinder. He looked away uncomfortably while she continued. A sharp sting pricked his arm when she removed the needle.

She placed the container into a labeled bag and set it on the table, lifting out the black light.

"I'm going to lift up your shirt," she said.

He didn't look at her, his face turned to the side. She looked at Olivia painfully and moved toward the light switch.

The room was encased in darkness. Melinda switched on the small machine, her gloves and shirt instantly glowing.

His fingers crushed hers suddenly and Olivia clasped his hand more securely, moving closer. She began rolling up his shirt and he whimpered softly. She found his face with her hand and began stroking gently.

"It's okay," she soothed calmly. "You're doing wonderful, sweetheart. You're doing wonderful."

The fluids stood out starkly on his stomach and chest. She slowly moved the light further upward, revealing more on the side of his neck. Coming back down, she ran thoroughly over his genitals. The entire area was covered. She came all the way down to his toes, checking every inch carefully.

Olivia felt the liquid creeping up her throat steadily and began swallowing chunks. The room flooded with light again and she blinked harshly, seeing spots.

Warner put the black light away, lifting out the camera. "Okay…. Elliot, I'm going to be taking some pictures. I need for you to lie as still as you can for me…can you do that?"

She couldn't imagine the humiliation he had to be feeling. How many times in the course of their career had they witnessed this being done? Being on the other end of the procedure was something she couldn't even fathom.

_Click. _Bruises on his stomach.

_Click. _Frostbite on his chest.

_Click. _Frostbite on his toes.

_Click. _Deep indentations in his wrists and hands.

_Click._ The cast on his arm.

_Click. _Broken fingers.

_Click. _Both eyes blackened.

_Click._ Broken nose.

She paused, walking toward the foot of the bed.

"Elliot," she said gently. "Can you turn on your side for me?"

He let out a deep breath. Olivia got up and placed her arms carefully around his shoulders, gently pulling his body towards her. She continued whispering words of praise and comfort while Melinda resumed her task.

Bruises, marks, and indentations on his back.

_Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click._

"Alright," she breathed, stepping back. "That's done."

Both women knew that what was left to do would be the hardest. Each began bracing themselves without knowing the other was too.

The medical examiner put the camera back in her bag and lifted out a small cloth full of instruments. She came to the side where Olivia sat and surprised them both by laying a hand gently on his arm.

"We're halfway there," she said. Olivia had never heard her voice sound quite this way before. She took a deep, controlling breath. "I need for you to sit up as much as you can now, okay?" She looked to Olivia and silently pleaded with her to help him.

The detective reached over for the button that controlled the bed movement and began slowly raising it. Elliot looked at her in panic and alarm and suddenly jerked his hand away from hers.

"I want to stop," he said anxiously. His breathing was becoming rapid and his words began rushing out. "I don't want to do this anymore… I want to stop."

The pleading in his voice cut Melinda to the quick. She bit her lip and looked to Olivia again, begging with her eyes.

Olivia's expression was agonized. She got up out of the chair and stood closer to him, cradling his face gently in her hands. Her face came down next to his in a move that surprised the other woman.

"We're almost done, baby," she said, her voice choked. The tears in her eyes couldn't be hidden anymore, and she began stroking anxiously all over his face. "You're doing so wonderful, sweetheart…you're being so brave, Elliot. I promise you we're almost done."

Melinda moved to the foot of the bed while she was talking to him and began rolling the blankets back toward the floor.

He thrashed, his breath coming in frantic gasping now. "No," he said hysterically, trying to move toward the side of the bed. "Stop…I want to stop!"

"She has to look, honey," Olivia said frantically, her gaze traveling down to Melinda. The doctor began gently prying apart his legs. "She's just going to look-"

Feeling what she was doing, Elliot began jerking his legs wildly, trying to scoot out of her reach. Acting quickly, Olivia leaned far over and pressed firmly against him with her weight, her heart completely sucked out now.

"No…._no_!"

The ghastly moan scared her to death, but she forced herself to keep pressing him down as gently as she could. The muscles strained weakly under her and it broke her heart that she could barely feel them. Under normal circumstance, she would have been flipped and pinned by now.

Melinda gently pushed his legs further apart and pressed her elbow against the left one to keep it from moving. She moved up and got partway on the bed, blocking his other leg with her body so that he was forced to keep them apart, and reached for her penlight.

Seeing that Olivia was holding him down, she began working as fast as she could. She picked up the tweezers and began painstakingly plucking individual pubic hairs, laying them on a towel beside her on the bed.

His head came back against the pillow and he sobbed hard.

_Wild laughter rang in his ears. _

"_Look at that," he said gleefully. "Our boy's got himself a fire hose!"_

_He gasped and writhed in desperation, but their hands were stronger. _

_Hands yanked and pulled on his penis to the point where he screamed out. More laughter followed and then something was being shoved in his mouth. He choked and began to panic, squirming even harder. _

Olivia looked into his face worriedly. His eyes were squeezed shut and he had started to shake as he cried. She moved slightly forward and leaned over, bringing her face down against his. Her hands cupped his cheeks gently.

"We're almost done, baby," she whispered. "I promise. I promise."

He was so tense that Melinda had to work the tweezers around in order to get to the hairs. Collecting four more, she finally had enough and backed away immediately to pick up a small container. She began gently massaging the tip of his penis, trying to coax the fluid out.

He sobbed in agony, his fists clenched tightly on the mattress. "Please…please stop," he begged. He suddenly began to scream and Olivia jumped. "_Stop…stop_!"

Melinda collected what she needed and moved away at once, lowering his legs. "That's it," she said quickly. "We're done. We're done."

Olivia immediately lifted her leg and braced in on the mattress, pulling herself up next to him. She clutched his shaking shoulders and pulled him against her desperately. He turned into her chest and wailed hysterically, trembling hard.

"It's all done, baby," she choked. Her arms locked tight around him and she stroked his hair tearfully. "It's over…we're all done now."

His sobs were so high-pitched that it sounded like a small child. Melinda moved to the table and began gathering all of the items. Her hands were shaking.

Olivia stroked his hair and neck soothingly, rocking him back and forth. He had been left a quivering mess and it absolutely killed her.

"It's alright," she continued soothingly. She pressed his face against his and closed her eyes as she rocked him. "I've got you, sweetheart…I'm right here. It's over. It's over."

Melinda stood by with tears in her eyes and watched Olivia rock him. The tough-as-nails detective she knew was totally broken as she cradled her partner in her arms.

His wails eased after a little while and he kept his face firmly against her. He swallowed and sniffled wetly, trembling all over.

"Make her go away," he whispered. "Olivia….please make her go away."

The words sent knives into Melinda's gut even though she knew he didn't mean them.

Olivia looked up and into a sight she had never seen before. The medical examiner was crying freely, swallowing. Melinda's dark eyes met hers and she saw such deep pain that it made her grimace.

Totally unaware of the tears streaming down her own cheeks, she bit her lip and looked at the other woman painfully.

"Call Kathy," she whispered. She couldn't get any other words out.

Melinda nodded painfully and left the room. Elliot's face lay limp against her and she could hear him struggling for breath. Shifting, she stroked over his forehead, into his hair, over his eyes….every place she could reach.

Her eyes closed as she ducked her head down and rested her face on the top of his head.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. She broke then and began sobbing hard as she kept stroking his face. "Elliot…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Special acknowledgement goes out to tcrowe for certain aspects of this chapter. Thanks for keeping me on my toes.**

**Thank you all for reviewing thus far….I never thought I'd see the day one of my stories broke the 200+ mark. Thanks for helping me support the cause. Enjoy.**

"Close the door," he said authoritatively, gesturing with two fingers.

She turned robotically halfway into the office and went back, shutting the door behind her. Her heart was pounding.

Whatever it was, Casey now knew it was serious. Arthur Branch never had his office door shut.

"Have a seat," he invited.

She moved in front of a large wing-backed leather chair and sat down tensely. Her stomach was doing flip-flops as she watched him cross behind the large mahogany desk and sit down.

The DA folded his giant hands together and lowered his head as he looked her in the eye.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Casey," he said, causing her eyebrows to jump in surprise. It was very unlike her boss to be so crass. "The return of Detective Stabler is already hitting the wire….the media is going to be all over the prosecution of those accused."

He raised his eyebrow slightly, a move that intimidated and racked her nerves. "I am forbidding you to go anywhere near the legal proceedings involving him and his kidnappers."

Shock and disbelief exploded in her eyes almost immediately, but she didn't speak.

Branch didn't speak either. He simply looked at her and waited for a response.

Her lips pursed and she took a composing breath.

"Why."

A statement as opposed to a question…so simple it was almost pointless and yet holding so much meaning that it literally hurt to say aloud.

Branch looked at her oddly, trying to discern if she was being facetious or was genuinely asking. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"You are too personally involved," he answered. She gave him an indignant look but he rushed on before she had a chance to speak again. "Don't try it, Casey. I know that the unit considers you a friend and will not hesitate when it comes to getting leniency for one of their own, especially considering the dynamic you've had with Stabler in the past."

She looked at him angrily and he raised his eyebrows.

"You really want me to list all of the times you've bent the rules for the sake of saving face for him?" he asked in exasperation, and began ticking them off without waiting for a reply.

"Your first week with the unit, you managed to get him off facing coercion charges against Kevin Walker even though he admitted _himself_ to using unnecessary methods for a confession.

You were made aware of he and his partner interrogating a suspect for a crime that, due to the statute of limitations, had no legal bindings at all, and allowed them to continue without speaking to me or Captain Cragen.

You used your connection with a former residing attorney to bail him out of being held in contempt of court after he disrespected a judge in an open proceeding…" He stopped, seeing the look on her face. "Would you like me to continue or are you seeing my point here?"

Casey kept her gaze on the ground, feeling her cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment. She was biting her lip so hard that it was quivering between her teeth. She managed to shake her head slightly.

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The phone rang for the fourth time. She skidded into the room, dropped the folder on her desk, and quickly snatched it up.

"Coldwell Banker and Associates," she answered, slightly breathless. "This is Kathy."

"Hi…Ms. Stabler?" a female voice said hesitantly.

"Yes?" she replied in confusion.

Melinda glanced quickly at two young women as they approached the entrance and moved out of their way. "This is Melinda Warner," she said. "I'm a Medical Examiner for Manhattan…I work with your husb-" She winced awkwardly. "Ah…with Elliot-"

"Doctor Warner," she said anxiously, recognizing the name. She turned to shut the office door quickly. "Yes… Olivia told me you would be coming there."

Her heart began thumping in her chest. "She…she told me…about-about the-" She swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat fast. "Did you do it?"

"Yes," she said, relieved that she wasn't going to have to explain things. "I performed a physical evidence recovery exam on him just a few minutes ago."

She heard tears in Kathy's voice. "How is he?"

The sound of his agonized cries echoed in her memory and she closed her eyes. "He…he's…" She couldn't think of what to say. "You should come down, Kathy."

"Oh, God…" she whispered, weakly. "Did something happen? Is-did he-?"

"No, Kathy, he's fine," she said quickly. "There was no physical trauma at all…but he didn't do very well with the procedure." She closed her eyes again. "I…I really think he'd appreciate having you here right now."

She glanced at the clock beside her desk calendar. It was only 11:45.

Tears threatened to spill out and she sucked in a deep breath. "I'll be on my way in about ten minutes," she said softly.

There was a moment of awkward silence. "Okay," Melinda finally said. "Well….I-I guess I'll see you when you get here, then."

"Okay," she said softly. Hearing the other woman's goodbye, she quickly called out, "Melinda." She bit her lip. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you for doing this for him."

Melinda swallowed hard. "You're welcome," she said softly.

With nothing more to say, Kathy murmured a goodbye and hung up.

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She rubbed small circles into his shoulder blades, squeezing gently as she felt him wearing himself out. His breathing began becoming exhausted.

"Relax, sweetheart," she murmured, stroking the dark head pressed into her stomach. She ran her hands over his shoulders again when he sniffled tearfully. He heaved a wet breath against her shirt wearily.

Olivia pushed him back gently to lie against the pillows. She could see his eyes closing as they moved, yet he fought with every ounce of strength he had not to give in.

His face was red and soaked with tears, his eyes turning puffy. She looked down at him with pain in her eyes and laid a hand tenderly across his face.

"Rest, Elliot," she said softly. He murmured something tearfully, exhaustion making his words incomprehensible. "Shh..." She stroked his cheek soothingly, whispering calmly. "Just rest now."

His expression turned to defeat. After a minute of fluttering eyelids, he gave up and sank into sleep.

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Her breath come out in a cloud of bitter cold as she placed her cell phone back in her pocket and hurried back inside the building.

When she got back to the fourth floor, she went up to the nurses' station.

"Excuse me," she said. Four women stopped talking and looked at her, but none said anything. Slightly offended, she took out her identification and laid it on the desk.

"I'm Dr. Melinda Warner, medical examiner." She looked at the woman closest to her squarely. "I need to speak to the doctor assigned to Elliot Stabler, room 420."

The women looked at each other with amusement and Melinda bit back the urge to snap at them. She couldn't stand resident nurses…even in her medical school days, they were the same: young, snobby, and acted like their job was supposed to work around their social life.

Finally, a brunette came over and lifted her ID casually, looking it over. She scrutinized Melinda for a moment and handed it back. Smacking her lips softly, she went over to the file cabinet and opened the first drawer.

The other women behind the desk were unnervingly silent, looking at her like an intruder of a private party.

"What's the name again?" the brunette asked, her voice sounding condescending.

Once again, Melinda bit her lip. "Elliot Stabler," she replied with forced patience. "'Stable' with an 'R'."

She scanned a few pages. "Oh, yes," she said finally. "Here…room 420. That would be Doctor Beck." She put the file back and shut the drawer, looking at Melinda expectantly.

She took a seething breath. "Could you page him, please?" she asked finally, eyebrows raised in exasperation. "I need to speak with him."

The girl looked at her for a long moment, amusement playing on the corner of her mouth. "One moment," she said finally, smirking ever so slightly. She picked up the phone and keyed the loudspeaker.

"Doctor Beck, you're needed at station four," her voice echoed in the hall. "Doctor Beck, you're needed at station four." She put the phone back and looked at her in amusement again.

"Thank you," she said, turning away quickly. She rolled her eyes the minute her back was turned and shook her head.

About five minutes later, a middle-aged man in a white coat approached the desk. The brunette pointed to where Melinda stood. He looked at her suspiciously, but began toward her.

"I'm Doctor Robert Beck," he said. "How can I help you?"

"Doctor Melinda Warner, medical examiner," she said, holding out her hand boldly. He shook it, relaxing. "I'm working on Detective Elliot Stabler's case. I understand you are his primary."

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Something I can assist you with, Doctor Warner?"

"I've been told that you are planning to do a vasectomy," she said.

He nodded. "The damage to his reproductive organs is extensive," he said. "We're going to do it as soon as the…" His eyes narrowed inquisitively. "Are you the one who did the rape exam?"

"Yes," she answered.

He shook his head, his eyes dark. "Such a tragic thing," he said softly. "That poor man…I can't even imagine…" He pursed his lips sympathetically. "I'm sorry…you were saying?"

"I wasn't able to complete the exam fully," she said. "He was far too upset….I stopped at the sperm sample."

The man looked at her cautiously. "What do you need from me?"

"I need for you to get an anal swab from him after he goes under for the surgery," she said. "There was no way I could put him through…" She sighed, biting her lip. She looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Doctor Beck….will you please do that for me? I want to get this processed as soon as humanly possible."

He looked at her sympathetically. "I will," he said softly. "It might take a little while before I can get it to you, but I'll do it, Doctor. Certainly."

"I'll be here for as long as it takes," she was quick to say. "Don't worry about that." Her eyes were turning suspiciously bright. "Thank you, Doctor Beck. This means the world to me…you have no idea."

Doctor Beck pursed his lips into a sad smile. "You're not just working on the case," he accused softly. He looked at her openly. "You're a friend of his, aren't you?"

She swallowed hard. The man was being so kind and honest that she couldn't deny it. "Yes," she said thickly. "I am a friend….a good friend."

He nodded sympathetically. "From what I've seen, he seems to have a lot of those around," he said softly. "Detective Stabler must be quite a remarkable man."

Her eyes slammed closed for a moment.

"Right you are, sir," she said softly, nodding. Her sad eyes met his. "Absolutely right."

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"Munch," he answered, cradling the receiver against his ear.

"Hey," came an exhausted, familiar voice. "How are things going over there?"

"Olivia," he said in surprise. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Um…not much is really happening as of yet. We've still got them in the holding cell for now."

"Cragen make you guys go home?" she asked softly, leaning against the wall tiredly. Her eyes slid closed.

"Looks like he made you, too," he shot back gently. At her silence, he sighed. "Yeah, Fin and I both went home last night at about eight or so." He paused. "How are things going with Elliot?"

Her long, weary sigh told him more than words ever could.

"Melinda did the rape exam," she said softly.

His eyes slammed shut. "Is he okay?"

"No, John," she said point-blank. "He's not okay…he's not okay at all." He didn't reply and she sighed again in exhaustion. "Kathy's with him now."

Munch sighed softly too.

"Fin said he's going to be heading back up there sometime in the next day or so," he said quietly. "I imagine Cragen will probably go with him…we've got a lieutenant on loan from Brooklyn standing in."

"What about you?" she asked softly.

He felt emotion rising in his chest. "No," he said thickly, blinking rapidly. His vision blurred for a moment as he forced the tears back. "No…they can go. Someone needs be here to help the squad."

"John…you didn't go in to see him the last time you were here," she said carefully. "Why don't you come too? You can-"

"No, Olivia," he cut in quickly. His heart began racing. "Look, I…we-we're really swamped here right now. We'll call you later."

She was left with a dial tone ringing in her ear before she could process any surprise.

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"You can't do that, Arthur," she said evenly, looking him in the eye. On the inside, she was shaking. "That's not fair."

"Just because I assigned you to the Sex Crimes Unit doesn't automatically mean you get first dibs on every case," he snapped in frustration. "There are a plethora of competent prosecutors that are already being prepped to take this."

"Just because I am his friend doesn't automatically mean that I'm going to be biased!" she shot back. "Iam competent too…and when have I ever asked for first dibs on _any_ cases that came through the unit?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, her brain caught up.

_Jesus Christ, Casey…you just talked back to the New York state District Attorney. _

_Lord, you'll be lucky to walk out of here with your job!_

She froze, her heart pounding in her throat.

Branch looked at her coldly for a minute before pursing his lips. The silence in the room was so heavy that it could be cut with a knife.

He leaned back after a minute and his face softened. "Touché," he said in amusement.

Casey blushed immediately, but didn't apologize. She wasn't going to take back her words.

She bit her lip anxiously, sighing softly.

"The truth?" she asked quietly, raising her eyebrows in defeat. He acknowledged her with an open expression. She sighed again. "In terms of bias, I _am_ too involved." She shook her head, her voice becoming stronger. "But victims of this kind of assault need representation that is personal, and Elliot..." She caught herself quickly. "Detective Stabler is no exception."

She looked at him in desperation. "His entire sense of self-worth and dignity has been violated in ways that neither of us will ever be able to fully comprehend. He not only has the public shame to deal with, but he's going to have to face numerous colleagues and co-workers, all of whom are going to told in detail intimate, humiliating things that no one outside of his wife has ever known."

Her anger was rising up and making her voice shake, but she didn't even realize it.

"So if you think it is better for someone who will just count him off as another mark on his win-loss calendar to represent him, by all means, go for it," she continued thickly. Her eyes were shining and fierce. "But I promise you this much….nothing will keep me away from helping my friend, and if that means being with him during every single legal proceeding from now until doomsday…I'm going to do it."

She swallowed hard, her throat dry from the adrenaline of her conviction, and fell silent. Her shaking could no longer be contained inside; her hands were trembling as she folded them in her lap and looked Arthur Branch in the eye.

He raised his eyebrows somewhat threateningly. "You do realize that I could suspend you for disobeying orders, Counselor,' he said.

Casey lifted her chin boldly and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," she said. "I do."

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"Excuse me," a voice said softly.

Her head snapped up from her appraisal in alarm and she blinked in disorientation.

A man came into the room slowly. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Robert Beck, Elliot's primary surgeon."

Kathy stood up quickly, placing her clipboard down on the chair. "Oh, yes," she said, shaking his hand immediately. "It's a pleasure to meet you…Kathy Stabler."

"The pleasure's all mine," he said softly, withdrawing his hand. He looked over at the bed. "How is he doing?"

She bit her lip. "He hasn't woken up since I got here," she answered, checking her watch. "That was…about a half-hour ago."

He nodded, looking back at her. His face became troubled.

"I need to talk to you about the vasectomy," he said seriously.

She didn't like the look on his face. "Is there a problem?"

"Well…yes," he said after a minute. "I'm afraid there is."

Fear flashed on her face at once.

"I've been reviewing the charts for his internal injuries," he said. "A lot of them have gotten worse since he's arrived….mostly the genitals."

"How much worse?" she whispered.

He grimaced. "The swelling of the urethra and penis haven't gone down, and there is a lot of skin in the inner parts of his pelvis that is unable to heal," he said. "But what I'm most concerned about is the damage to the testicles….the left one is still almost completely detached despite the stitching, and the right one is too badly mutilated to even attempt to patch."

She swallowed hard, nausea threatening to overtake her. "What…what are you saying, Doctor?" she asked shakily.

"Mrs. Stabler," he said sympathetically. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this…but I'm afraid that a vasectomy isn't what your husband needs." He looked at her carefully. "We're going to have to perform surgical castration… we're going to have to remove both of his testicles."

Her jaw dropped in shock and horror.

"I'm very sorry," he repeated, looking pained. "We don't have any other choice. We've done every type of reconstructive surgery possible…it's our only option left. Without the procedure, he runs the risk of internal hemorrhaging, and that could be fatal."

Her eyes closed and she started to shake.

"Oh, my God," she murmured.

"I apologize to have to spring all of this on you," he said softly. "But the longer we wait to do the surgery, the longer the recovery time is going to take."

She clasped her hands to her mouth to keep from crying out and looked over at the bed. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she sobbed quietly.

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Cragen stepped out of his office, checking his watch.

"Briscoe, Garrett…" he called out, scanning the room with his eyes "And…Bishop…you're up."

The three glanced around before standing slowly.

"Have fun," one detective called out jokingly, having already spent several hours down in the holding cell earlier. "Real bunch of socialites, those guys."

Detective Garrett shot him a dirty look as they left.

Shaking his head, he turned back toward his office.

"Captain Cragen."

The unfamiliar voice made him whip around. A man in an impeccable dark suit stood inside the doorway holding a briefcase.

"Can I help you?" he asked suspiciously.

The man strode past the desks. "I'm Dwight Haskins," he declared, coming up to him. "I represent the New York state public defense."

His face screwed in irritation. "Get out of my precinct," he said in disgust, turning away. "There's nothing to discuss with you."

"Captain, I've been authorized to tell you that if you don't allow us access to the accused your entire squad will face criminal charges," he called out loudly.

All talk from around the man came to a halt as sixteen detectives turned to glare at the intruder. Don whipped around. He strode into the other man's face with fire in his eyes. He had to stop himself from jerking the man forward by his collar and instead settled with clenching his fists.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" he hissed. "Get your ass out of here before I have my detectives escort you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the detectives tightening their stances, ready to deliver on their captain's threat.

Haskins didn't flinch as he reached inside his jacket to retrieve a folded document. "I have a court order signed by Judge Warren Verella inciting the immediate granting of defensive counsel," he said stonily.

He thrust the document toward the captain, spitting out the next words harshly. "Effective. Immediately."

"Captain, this is bullshit," a detective burst out, stepping toward them. He eyed the attorney threateningly.

Don said nothing. He stared at the folded paper in his hands in disbelief and anger that threatened to make him dizzy.

**United States District Court**

**District of New York**

**Order for Proceeding of Public Counsel**

**WHEREAS this court has been presented with a Petition by Defensive Counsel requesting distribution of service to the accused and denial of claims of certain claimants due to failure to comply with federal law of the right to counsel within twelve hours of arrest. **

**NOW, THEREFORE, IT IS HEREBY ORDERED AND ADJUDGED AS FOLLOWS:**

**The accused be made privy to all available services of public defense**

**All rights invoked due to imprisonment be compensated by the offices responsible for arrest**

**LET JUDGEMENT BE ENTERED: Immediately**

**DATED: December 10, 2006 BY THE COURT:**

**Signature of Judge Verella**

**Judge of U.S. District Court**

Haskins looked at him smugly when Don raised his eyes to look at him.

His hateful gaze remained locked on the man in front of him. With clenched teeth, he said softly, "Go downstairs and get them out of the cell."

Shouts of anger and indignation burst out at once. He saw a gleam in the attorney's eyes and clenched his teeth again.

"Go," he repeated. His voice was soft and dripping with venom. "We've got no choice."


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Wow…so many high emotions in some of those last reviews….I was starting to expect hate mail from some of you guys! Ok…breathe…breathe…have a little faith please. I am well aware that I have created almost a catastrophic chain of events here…I promise that I will be addressing every detail down to the smallest before this is over. **

They continued staring at each other in silent standoff.

After what seemed like hours, his eyes narrowed. Her heart thumped hard against her chest.

The D.A. pointed a finger toward her warningly. "Not one word to the press," he said.

Casey fought the smile that wanted to burst out and nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir," she replied.

He stood up abruptly and she took it as her cue to do the same.

"I'm not messing around, Casey," he said gruffly. "The first sign of things getting too personal and you're off the case, you got that?"

She nodded again. "I understand," she said. He shook his head. The wide smile broke free. "You won't be disappointed, sir. You have my word on it."

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For some reason, seeing the door standing open as she rounded the corner sent Olivia's heart suddenly pumping.

Slipping her cell phone quickly back into her pocket, she hurried the rest of the way and strode inside without announcing her presence.

"What's going on?" she asked immediately.

Her eyes widened when she saw Kathy standing by the bed, sobbing. Doctor Beck looked at her with pain on his face. Her fear escalated and her first instinct had her rushing to the bed to look down on Elliot.

"What's happened?" she repeated urgently, raking him over with anxious eyes. He was breathing and appeared asleep, but it gave her no relief. She whipped back toward the blonde. "Kathy? What is it?"

She shook her head, swallowing hard. Olivia saw her shaking. Whirling toward the doctor, she looked at him desperately. The fear had her throat closed and she couldn't manage any words to him.

His eyes lowered wearily and he sighed. He explained to her what he had previously said to Kathy, his voice strained.

The blood rushed from the detectives face so fast that it looked like she would fall over.

Shock, disbelief, and horror surged through her, making it hard to breathe. Doctor Beck said something, but all she could hear was the roaring in her ears.

_No. No. No._

This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything he'd already gone through

"I'm sorry," Doctor Beck said softly, breaking the morbid silence. "Please…I'm so very sorry, but…I don't see another choice. Without the procedure…he's going to be in so much pain that he may not be able to bear walking."

Without warning, Olivia suddenly launched herself away from the bed before he finished speaking. The doctor jumped, startled, and watched her hurry out the door. He turned back to Kathy anxiously, but she didn't even look at him.

Her stomach was rising dangerously in her throat as Olivia pulled her cell phone out again. Her hands shook so much that she had to press the phone firmly against her stomach in order to get it steady.

Tears came gushing out suddenly and she swallowed hard as she waited for a connection.

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He had to fight the urge to wipe the smug smirk off of the man's face as they stood silently in front of his office door.

The detectives still in the squad room were all aiming death glares at the suit-clad visitor, but Haskins seemed to be enjoying their reactions as he stood patiently. His arms were folded across his perfectly creased blazer, his impeccably trimmed nails drumming on his forearms.

From his position, Don could see Munch as he stormed toward the door, and took childish satisfaction when he threw it open loudly, making the defense attorney jump.

"Captain, what the hell is this?" he cried angrily, stalking past the desks. "What asshole ordered them to be released?"

The captain raised his eyebrows at the detective but didn't speak. John stopped abruptly at his side, seeing the other man. His sneer was disgusted.

"Oh," he said dryly, eyeing the smaller man up and down. "Let me guess."

"Dwight Haskins," he said, offering his hand to the detective. John just looked at him. Cragen once again bit back a laugh when the attorney eventually dropped his hand, looking disgruntled. He cleared his throat and withdrew the document again. "I have a court order. These men are entitled to fair representation-"

"Bullshit," John scoffed, without reaching for the document. His eyes were boring holes into the man's skull.

The door opened again and the footsteps that were heard drew his attention away. He straightened, his face screwing into a menacing scowl. Cragen's demeanor noticeably changed as well, causing Haskins to turn around to see what had them so rigid.

The noise level in the squad room disappeared as the seven men were marched inside, accompanied by the four detectives. Fin was with them as well.

"Stop," Don spat out coldly as they got inside the door. "Right there."

The detectives halted the men's' progress and stood expectantly, waiting for instruction.

Haskins looked at him, miffed. "I need time alone with them, Captain," he said authoritatively.

Cragen threw him a look that stopped his tirade short. "Not in my squad room, you don't," he said in disgust. He flicked his head toward the detectives.

"Take them to one of the upstairs rooms," he said. "Get them out of my sight." Seeing the attorney about to protest, he glared at him threateningly. "You can either talk to them there or get the hell out of this precinct….it's your choice."

The attorney looked at the captain indignantly and shook his head, but kept silent. He turned on his heel with a huff and walked after the group.

Cragen sighed tiredly and shook his head, opening the door to his office. Munch looked at him in disbelief, blocking the doorway.

"Wha-!" he stammered angrily. "You're just going to let this guy talk to them? Just like that?" He scoffed in bewilderment.

"Yes, John," the captain snapped, surprising him with abruptness of response and anger in his voice. "Just. Like. That." He stared at the detective frostily.

Munch clenched his jaw. Don could tell he was about to say something, but the phone ringing from inside stopped him.

The two men stared at each other until he finally moved away from the door. The captain turned to watch him stalk back toward his desk. The phone was still ringing. Shaking his head curtly, he stormed inside his office.

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Her phone rang as soon as she stepped into the elevator. Startled, she reached into her jacket pocket.

Words began exploding from the other end as soon as she flipped it open…she never even got to say hello.

"Whoa!" she said in surprise, struggling to make sense of the insistent ramblings. "Wait- Olivia, hold-" Her brain suddenly connected enough to comprehend what the detective had just said and she froze.

"Hold on," she said quickly, feeling her heart start to race. "Olivia, I'm on my way up now."

The door opened and she nearly plowed into two people standing in front of it, about to get on. The phone dangled still open in her hand as she hurried around the corner.

Kathy and Olivia both looked at her anxiously when she burst into the room. Doctor Beck looked conflicted as he turned to her.

"Doctor," he began. "Please, I understand your position, but I-"

"Wait," she interrupted desperately, trying to assert some authority into her voice to disguise the shaking. "Just hold on." He looked to be visibly holding his tongue as he fell silent. Her brain was reeling frantically. "You're positive you've seen every possible angle of the genitalia in order to dismiss the idea of reconstruction?"

"Doctor Warner, you have my word as a medical professional," he said, seeming almost desperate. "The condition of the reproductive organs is much too jeopardized to risk, otherwise I assure you we would go ahead with it."

Melinda swallowed hard. "Is…how much damage would be done if you waited for the results of a vasectomy before going through with the total procedure?"

She hardly believed her own voice as she spoke. If someone came into her lab and started telling her how to do her job, she would be pissed as hell. She always had the highest respect for the practice of a fellow medical professional…never would she have ever dreamed of getting in their game before.

But desperate times called for desperate measures…and she wasn't desperate. She was absolutely terrified.

She could see indignation explode in the man's eyes, but for his credit, Doctor Beck held his composure admirably.

The room was so tensely silent that the sound of Elliot sighing softly in his sleep made Kathy jump. Olivia felt her heart pounding anxiously as she watched the medical examiner staring steadfastly at the doctor.

"Performing a vasectomy will only affect the area around the urethra," he said finally. He bit his lip. "The damage to his testicles will still be…"

"It won't change, then?" she persisted.

He took a deep breath. "Doctor Warner," he said carefully. "I respect your medical authority. But you're asking me to gamble with the safety of my patient." He shook his head. "I can't allow-"

"Please, hear me out," she interrupted desperately. Her eyes were bright. "Please, Doctor Beck…just hear me out before you make your call. Whatever you decide then, I'll back you a hundred percent."

He sighed softly, but gestured for her to go continue.

Her heart thumped against her chest as Melinda blew out a breath. "I took photographs of the brunt of the damage for the exam," she said. "I strongly think you should look at them first before you do such a drastic procedure. Swelling of the genitals has a 60 chance of reducing...it's been my experience that it usually does."

She bit her lip, staring desperately at the doctor. He looked at her squarely before shifting his gaze.

Kathy looked at him tearfully, looking terrified. Olivia looked at him like a predator about to strike. He met each of their stares before turning toward the bed.

He met the black woman's intense stare once more and sighed softly.

"Alright," he said, shaking his head gently. "I'm going to go ahead and prep for a vasectomy." He looked at her almost contritely. "We'll go over your exam before making any further decisions."

She swallowed hard again and blinked rapidly to keep her tears of relief from spilling out.

He looked at the other two sympathetically.

"Does that sound good to you?" he asked, directing the comment at Kathy. She nodded quickly. He looked at Olivia with eyebrows raised, silently asking the same.

"Yes," she said rapidly, her voice choked. She was sagging in visible relief. "Yes, thank you. Thank you."

He nodded gently. "I'm going to go get a few nurses and we're going to go ahead and take him surgery now," he said. "I really must insist that we get it done right away."

Kathy looked at the bed worriedly. Her eyes were shining. "What if he wakes up?" she asked tearfully. "I-I don't want him to be in pain."

Doctor Beck looked at her warmly. "He's going to be getting the same dose of painkillers that we gave him when he first arrived," he said kindly. "Trust me…he won't be waking up again today, that's for certain."

She sniffled and looked away.

He looked at them again. "Are there any other questions I can answer for you?"

No one responded and he bit his lip. "If you'll excuse me then…I'm going to get the nurses."

The room was silent when he walked out. All three women looked everywhere but at the other.

Olivia swallowed hard and stepped closer to the bed, gripping his hand gently. Kathy glanced at her for a moment and then surprised Melinda when she suddenly strode forward toward her. She reached out and gripped the black woman's hand tightly.

"Thank you, Melinda," she whispered, tears dripping down her face. "Thank you."

A lump rose in the medical examiner's throat at the raw emotion gleaming in the woman's eyes. She couldn't speak, so she squeezed back and nodded.

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"…X sub N equals N plus 14…"

The words coming from the front of the room sounded Greek to his ears. A few seats away, he could hear soft snickers and knew that Jeremy Givens was flicking spitballs into the hair of the guy in front of him like always.

But all he could see was blurriness in front of his eyes.

When he was little, his dad had always been the first one to pick him up every time he was scared. No matter what was going on at the moment, he always seemed to know exactly what to do to make all of his fear go away.

The thought of his dad being scared…of _anything_…was too frightening to think about. He was never scared. He was a cop….he was the bravest person Dickie had ever known.

_What makes Dad feel better when **he** gets scared?_

He understood what Captain Cragen had told him about what had happened and he didn't blame his dad….he didn't blame him at all.

It just scared the shit out of him.

He hated the way everyone at school talked about it when they thought he wasn't around. Even the teachers….he had overheard two of them a few weeks ago as he passed by a classroom.

"_I don't know…it seems almost like they're just looking for media attention now. My opinion, I bet the guy got into some trouble with the department and cooked up some scheme to get the department to think he's missing."_

"_What was that girl that was kidnapped a few years ago…Elizabeth Smart? The media didn't broadcast her story **this** much…it all just seems fishy, if you ask me."_

His friends had all suddenly started acting like they expected him to freak out every five seconds. Anytime someone mentioned anything about their family, they would stop mid-sentence and look at him sympathetically. He hated that look.

_Poor Dickie. We shouldn't talk about our parents until after he knows for sure if his dad is even still alive._

Some of the girls asked him how he could even stand to go to school. He always avoided the question.

How could he tell them what he was thinking?

_It doesn't really feel any different than normal not having him around._

The pain that squeezed his heart made it hard to breathe and the next thing he knew, his notebook was smudged. He dipped his head quickly so that no one would see him crying and quickly tried to wipe his face.

He was the most horrible, rotten person on the face of the planet.

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"$2.35," the cashier said.

The line was full of chattering, rambunctious middle-schoolers, but the girl in front of her seemed to be staring off into space.

"Hon," the woman said loudly in annoyance. "It's comes to $2.35."

The girl continued to stand in front of her, not paying attention.

A short red-headed girl a few places behind her leaned around two boys busy hooting over something and pushed the girl gently.

"Liz!" she yelled.

Elizabeth jumped, looking behind her. Hannah Corbett made a face and gestured to the lady at the cash register. Startled, she turned back to face an angry grey-haired woman who was holding out her hand impatiently.

"I…I'm sorry," she stammered, fumbling in her pockets. "How-how much is it?"

"$2.35," the woman repeated harshly.

Her face was flaming as she yanked the wad of one-dollar bills from her side pocket. Quarters flew onto the metal serving tray and bounced onto the floor, rolling into the crowd behind her.

"God…" she swore, flustered. She whipped around, looking frantically for the change, knowing she was as red as a beet. Aborting the idea, she hurriedly separated three dollars and handed them to the woman. "Here…I'm sorry."

She took her change and hurried out into the cafeteria. Her hands were shaking and she struggled to keep the tray balanced as she walked mechanically to the small table near the wall. Tears swam in her eyes as sat down, but she composed herself quickly when she saw Hannah coming out of the line.

The redhead plopped next to her and began arranging the items on her tray, popping a French fry in her mouth. "Can you believe that pop quiz?" she asked, shaking her can of juice vigorously. She popped the tab and it hissed loudly. "I swear Bowman has it in for us…who studies the freaking footnotes?"

Elizabeth shrugged, pushing around the plate of French fries that would end up in the trash just like they had every day for the past five weeks. Her throat was tight, creating a panicky sensation as she struggled to breathe through her nose and appear to be listening.

Her friend was moaning about a pop quiz that had happened the day she had found out that her father had been found.

The girls across from her were giggling over some note while her father was lying in a hospital bed breathing through a tube.

She was fiddling with a can of Sunny Delight while her father needed IVs to give him nourishment.

A terrifying feeling began creeping up the back of her throat. Her heart began to speed up and she held her breath, terrified because she recognized it. It was the same feeling that had woken her from a dead sleep at 5:30 in the morning last Easter Sunday when she'd suddenly discovered she had the stomach flu.

She didn't even realize she had gotten to her feet until she suddenly saw faces flying past her.

The dingy green door to the bathroom stall squeaked loudly as she burst inside. She managed to lock it behind her before hitting her knees.

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"Is he with all of them?" she asked incredulously, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her eyes narrowed as she searched the files in front of her rapidly in exasperation. Her eyes widened at his next words and she straightened. "A _court order_? Who the hell does this guy think he is…Johnny Cochran?"

Shaking her head, she gave up and shoved the files to the side. She rubbed a hand over her temple as the captain continued.

"Yes," she answered with a quiet huff of frustration. _Where the hell is that damn file?_ "No…unfortunately Judge Verella is a stickler for 'due process', no matter what the circumstance."

Closing her eyes, Casey sank into her chair.

"Alright, Captain," she said. "I have some files I need to drop off and then I'll be right down. Okay. Bye."

Dropping the phone into the cradle, the ADA gathered as many as the loose manila folders as she could reach and lifted them up, hoping to find the one she was looking for.

A newspaper was lying underneath, face up.

**ABDUCTED OFFICER DISCOVERED IN NIAGARA**

Her stomach dropped to the floor.

With a quick sweep of her hand, she brushed the newspaper into the trash can beside the desk.

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Her palm slammed against the cold metal with a resounding _smack_.

"God damn it," she growled, thumping a few times with the flat of her hand. When that failed, she tugged as hard as she could.

Nothing.

Seething in frustration, Kathleen dropped the heavy backpack off of her shoulder. Her shoulder ached immediately with the pressure suddenly gone and she winced, reaching over to rub it.

Pulling her collar forward, she discovered an angry white area enflamed in the flesh where the circulation had been cut off.

"Damn it," she muttered angrily, jerking her shoulder back into her sweater.

She returned her attention to the combination lock, spinning it in annoyance.

23…15…07.

She yanked up on the latch as hard as she could and it didn't budge.

Fury broke loose inside her. Her hand slammed against the metal locker hard and then she heard a distinct _crack_ from inside. She growled in frustration.

A leather sleeve appeared in her line of vision and a hand wrapped itself around the latch. She stepped aside as Melanie Jordan pressed her knee against the bottom of the locker and lifted.

The door flew open and the small mirror attached to the inside came sliding to the floor.

Kathleen bent down angrily and scooped it up, feeling it come apart in her hands. Her friend watched her kick the small fragments of glass underneath the bank of lockers before straightening.

A stray purple bead dropped onto the floor and the lanky brunette reached down to retrieve it. She held it out to her friend and looked at her in amusement.

"Not going to say 'thank you'?" she teased, grinning.

The blonde didn't even crack a smile as she swiped the bead from her. The force caused it to bounce right back to the floor, but Kathleen didn't even seem to notice.

She dumped the pieces of mirror onto the shelf and pulled out her Calculus book. Bending down, she angrily unzipped the backpack and shoved it inside.

Melanie watched her sympathetically.

"Hey, Kat…" she said, her voice softening to concerned. "You want to come over for a while? My mom's working late…we can order a pizza."

Kathleen shook her head, not sparing her a glance as she lifted her coat out and slipped it on. She winced when the locker door slammed shut hard.

"Are you okay?" she asked finally, looking at her squarely. She reached forward and gripped her arm gently, forcing her friend to look at her.

The blue eyes that met hers were pain-filled and furious. Kathleen looked so pissed that Melanie wondered if she would slug her.

_Yeah, I'm just fucking perfect. My dad was kidnapped for a fucking month and I'm still bracing myself for his funeral. I'm fucking ecstatic!_

Her friend dropped her hand to grip hers softly. "You know you can always call me," she said. She looked at her desperately. "You know that, right?"

The blue eyes filled with tears a split second before she ripped her hand away. She brushed past Melanie and strode down the hall without looking back.

Faces looked at her quizzically as she hurried past with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn't see them.

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The sound of her pencil scratching against the paper was the only noise in the quiet house besides the hum of the dishwasher.

_The arguments presented by both sides lack both validity and coherence. As one author stated in his well-versed_

Shaking her head, she scribbled furiously over the sentence.

_The articulations presented by the favoring side_

Clenching her fist, she shook her head again and scrubbed her eraser over that sentence too.

The summary-analysis was due the next day. It was supposed to be a minimum of 1,000 words and she was stuck after the first sentence. Huffing quietly, Maureen tapped the pencil against her teeth.

Her gaze wandered over to the kitchen beside her. Dickie must have made himself lunch today because the peanut butter jar was still sitting unopened beside the microwave with a bag of Ziplocs beside it.

_I thought Dickie hated peanut butter._

Her mother's client calendar was posted on the refrigerator door. Some dates were circled in red ink with writing, but she was too far away to see what it said and didn't feel like getting up.

December 11th. Two more days before winter break.

Five weeks after she had first seen her father's face on the news.

She closed her eyes tight and breathed through her nose quickly.

_Stop it. Focus. Focus. English assignment. Focus._

She sat forward and leaned over her paper again.

_One author's viewpoint, though well-articulated, is a prime example of biases having the effect of_

The pencil flew across the table. Maureen snatched the paper up and crumbled it with so much force that her hand cramped.

Hot tears dripped onto her notebook as she chucked the paper ball hard against the wall. It bounced to the floor and rested there.

Her head dropped to the table and she sobbed so hard that her sides ached. In the privacy of the empty house, she screamed out the agony and pain until her voice was raw.

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Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confliction as Melinda sat outside the operating room.

_Should I tell them about the anal swab?_

Knowing Olivia like she did, the detective would be furious if she found out it had been done without her knowledge. But she also knew how much it would kill her to have to know about it.

She didn't know Kathy at all. Obviously, his ex-wife had been aware of the rape exam, but she seriously doubted that Olivia would have told her the details involved in the procedure. The thought of making that woman even more miserable was not at the top of her list.

She was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. It was going to come out sooner or later, especially when she got the results processed.

Kathy sat beside her, hands clenched and folded tensely in her lap. She looked absolutely drained. She was doing her best to conceal the tears seeping from her eyes, but they had been consistent for nearly the entire hour they had been sitting there.

Olivia sat across from them and was turned so that she wouldn't meet their eyes. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest as she stretched her legs in front of her. She was fiddling anxiously with the ring on her right ring finger.

Doctor Beck had told them the surgery would take approximately an hour and a half. He had offered to have someone call them when he was back in the room, but they had parked themselves outside the operating room and there they remained.

A cell phone rang suddenly. Melinda didn't feel a vibration against her hip, so she knew it wasn't hers.

The detective lifted the phone tiredly to her ear.

"Benson," she said quietly. A beat passed. "Hey, Fin."

She listened for a minute before getting up and walking toward the window.

"Do you have kids, Doctor Warner?"

The soft voice startled her. Melinda jerked her head to the left. Kathy's head remained back against the wall, but her eyes were on hers.

She bit her lip. "I have a daughter," she answered after a minute. "Kayla."

"How old is she?" the other woman asked.

"Seven," she answered softly.

A ghost of a smile lifted Kathy's lips for a moment. "I think my favorite age for all kids is seven," she said, sounding wistful. She smiled again. "The world is so exciting at that age…there's always something new to discover."

She looked over at her again. "My twins were big on forts at that age," she continued. Her grin held the pride only a mother held and Melinda found herself returning it without being able to help it. "I remember one time they made one in the bathtub with two stools and a pile of my winter coats. Elliot came home from work and about had the crap scared out of when he was about to take a shower."

Melinda chuckled. "Kayla isn't into forts right now," she said with a smile of her own. "She gets up at the crack of dawn and follows me around as I'm getting ready for work." Her eyes sparkled. "Calls herself my 'shadow'."

Her face drooped then and the light left her eyes. She dropped her gaze to the ground and sighed.

"My hours are so crazy sometimes that some nights I don't even get to see her until after she's asleep," she said. "I was willing to quit after she was born, but Mike insisted I keep going to work…said as long as I was happy, he'd spend the rest of his life being a stay-at-home dad."

Kathy's heart suddenly squeezed. She took a painful breath.

"I said the same thing when Maureen was born," she said, sounding almost surprised. "He loved being a cop so much and I would do anything in the world to make him happy." She shook her head, sighing softly. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet that Melinda barely heard her. "Now look where we are."

Melinda bit her lip, not sure what to say. Kathy looked away.

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The soft knock on the door made him look up. His face melted into a relieved smile and he stood up quickly.

"Casey," he said warmly, walking over to where she stood in the doorway. "Thanks for coming down."

She smiled softly, but her eyes were searching the squad room restlessly. "Where are they now?" she asked.

The disgust couldn't be disguised from his face or voice. "I sent them to an upstairs room," he said. He checked his watch. "I have no idea how long to expect it to last."

"Who's their representation?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Dwight Haskins," Don answered. He rolled his eyes empathetically. "I've seen some pretty wimpy- looking guys in my day…but this guy tops them all. I think he had a manicure."

"He may be wimpy," she said bitterly. "But he's definitely not incompetent."

Cragen was surprised at her tone. "You run into him before?"

She nodded with disdain. "He and I ended up running against each other for the same position at Watchell, Lipton, Rosen, and Katz right after graduation."

His eyes rounded instinctively. "That's…that's like the number one firm in the state, isn't it?" he asked, unable to hide his surprise. "You interned there?"

She nodded wryly. "I was this close to making associate," she said, indicating with her thumb and forefinger spread apart. "His GPA ended up beating mine by two points, so he got first picks." Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "You can guess where he decided to go."

Cragen grimaced.

"Captain," Fin said suddenly, walking up behind Casey. "Olivia just called."

She saw fear flash in the older man's eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"They took him to surgery about an hour ago to do a vasectomy," he said. He bit his lip. "She said they might need to do a surgical castration."

Her eyes bugged out before she could stop them. "Oh, Jesus," she said weakly.

The detective glanced at her a moment before looking anxiously at the captain again. "Is it alright if I head back there?" he asked desperately. "Just…you know…"

Cragen turned around before he finished speaking and disappeared into the office. He and Casey looked at each other, surprised. A moment later, he returned with his coat in hand.

"Lieutenant Barry!" he barked, startling the young man as he was pouring a cup of coffee. He abandoned the coffee and quickly hurried over. "When Haskins gets done, make sure all seven of them are locked back up and an officer is with them at all times." He gestured to Fin. "We're heading back to Niagara…I'm not sure yet how long we'll be, so I need you to stand-by."

Barry nodded immediately. "Yes, sir," he said. "Don't worry about anything; you do what you need to do. I can handle things here."

He nodded curtly. "This is our Assistant DA, Casey Novak," he said, gesturing to her. "If she needs anything from you or the defense, you get it for her and don't ask questions." He looked at him squarely. "Are we clear on that?"

The young man nodded quickly again. "Yes, sir," he repeated nervously. "Absolutely."

Almost as an afterthought, Cragen suddenly turned to face her. "Unless…do you want to come along with us?" he asked.

She started quickly. "Um…that's alright," she said. "Thank you, but I can't." She opened her mouth hesitantly. "Will you…?"

He held up his hand. "I'll call," he said. "First chance I found out anything."

She smiled in relief, nodding her thanks.

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Fin went back to his desk to get his keys. As he was digging under the junk on top, his partner walked in.

"Hey," he said, jerking his head toward him. "We're going to the hospital."

John whipped around. "Did something happen?" he asked dreadfully.

He shrugged. "I really have no idea," he said honestly. "All Olivia said is that they're having some issues with surgery right now."

Munch felt his heart rise to his throat.

_Oh, God…please don't do this…we just got him back, please don't do this…_

He started, realizing his partner had said something else. "What?"

"Are you riding with us?" Fin repeated quickly. "Or do you want to meet us?"

"_Truth hurts, doesn't it?"_

_His teeth clenched and fury exploded behind his eyes. _

"_Fuck…you," he growled._

His fingers began to tremble.

"No," he said quickly, nearly choking on the word. "No. I'll….I'll just stick around here. Keep an eye on things for the captain."

His partner paused, looking at him almost accusingly. "That's why Barry's here," he said, raising an eyebrow. He pursed his lips. "Why are you being like this, John? What the hell are you-?"

John reached around him and picked up a handful of phone messages.

"Give these to Olivia," he said, shoving the papers at him. "They're not important, but she might want them anyway."

He strode past the desk toward the door.

"John-" he said, turning toward him quickly.

"You ready, Detective?" Cragen's voice interrupted. He appeared beside him with his coat on and keys in hand.

Fin bit his lip and stared after his partner's retreating form for a moment longer before following the captain.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Doctor Beck pulled off his surgical mask as he pushed through the doors and sighed wearily.

Melinda was the first to get to her feet, which startled a slightly-dozing Olivia and Kathy. Once they saw what was happening, both got to their feet as well.

"Doctor," she called, seeing him about to go into the waiting room.

He turned toward them in surprise and headed back the way he had come.

"How is he?" Olivia said urgently, before he was even before them. Her brown eyes were slightly dilated from lack of rest and bloodshot, giving her the appearance of someone crazed. "Did everything go okay?"

"Where is he?" Kathy chimed in as he was preparing to answer.

Melinda remained silent, cutting the man a break. She knew all too well how difficult it was sometimes trying to give details to a hysterical family, and the last thing this guy needed was three of them at once.

"The surgery was no problem," he said immediately. Looks of relief passed over all of their faces. "We were able to make two clean incisions on either side of the vas deferens without interfering with the damage already inflicted."

He saw a look of horror pass over the blonde's face, but she held herself together as he continued. "We had to remove the suture around the penis and along the urethra," he went on. "As soon as they get done replacing the stitches, he'll be taken back to his room."

He turned toward Melinda then. "Oh, Doctor Warner," he said. "Before I forget….I did the-"

"Thank you," she rushed in, before he could complete the thought. She glanced at the others quickly. "I appreciate you looking over the photographs for me."

He looked at her startled. She shot a meaningful look toward the other two women and raised her eyebrows, hoping he would get the message. His eyes widened slightly, but he controlled his reaction carefully.

"Not a problem," he said, nodding slightly in understanding. "I'll go over them with you as soon as we're done, if that's alright."

She nodded as well and tried her best to avoid the sudden burning hole she felt Olivia directing into her side with her eyes.

He turned back toward the operating room. "I have to get back," he said. "But I just wanted to touch base with you to make sure you're made aware of his condition. I'll be happy to talk with you in more detail after he's all settled."

Kathy checked her watch as he disappeared behind the doors. "I'd better make sure the kids are alright at home," she said, pulling out her cell phone.

She walked around the corner. Melinda turned back toward her chair and saw Olivia still staring at her intently.

"What?" she asked, uncomfortably.

The detective raised an eyebrow and continued staring for a moment.

"Nothing," she finally said.

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The door opened and a uniformed officer poked his head inside.

"There's a Dwight Haskins asking for you guys," he said, looking around at the other officers with a hint of question in his voice. "Says to tell you he's through."

Casey was lounging in Fin's chair and got quickly to her feet. John looked around for a moment.

"Briscoe, Roberts," he called, gesturing to them.

The authoritative note in his voice told them not to question their fellow detective at the moment. John was already halfway out the door and they quickly followed.

She saw a look of indignation flash on Lieutenant Barry's face as she headed for the door, but the young man didn't say anything.

Catching up to them easily, she followed them up the stairs and around a corner to the far right. John opened the door of the last room and went inside, followed by the other two detectives.

Two men came out first, accompanied by Detective Roberts. Two more were led out right after them by Briscoe, with John bringing up the rear with the remaining ones. They were jeering and laughing as they were taken out of the room, but as soon as they saw Casey they began leering.

She turned her head in disgust as they hurled crude catcalls toward her and rolled her eyes, holding her tongue as they were herded past.

_These guys probably haven't been with a woman in years._

One of the men that John was holding made a particularly rude gesture towards her. Without skipping a beat, the detective jerked him backwards with enough force to send him stumbling.

"Shut up!" he barked, grabbing his neck roughly.

The man laughed but obediently shut his mouth. Munch shot her an apologetic look and she smiled wryly as she turned back toward the door expectantly.

After a minute, the defense attorney came out. He pulled the door shut and straightened his lapels as he turned to follow the detectives.

"Dwight," she said.

Startled, he looked for the source of the voice and did a double-take when he saw her. A smile spread over his lips that oozed superiority.

"Novak?" he asked in amusement. He did another double-take dramatically. "Fancy seeing you again…come to take notes?"

She looked at him coldly, deliberately ignoring the jibe. _Nope…he sure hasn't changed. _

"I'll be representing Detective Stabler on behalf of the people," she said, keeping her tone all-business. She reached for her briefcase. "We can discuss plea options after getting back from the initial appearance. I'm only willing to come here under the underst-"

He barked out a condescending laugh in the middle of her sentence, startling her. "Ex-excuse me?" he said with a small huff. He pulled a dramatically confused face, like he was having trouble hearing her. "After getting _back _from the initial appearance?" He laughed again.

Casey couldn't keep the bewildered look from coming to her face. She smiled and shook her head lightly, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his expression didn't change. Bewilderment gave way to astonishment.

"Are you kidding me?" She let out her own condescending laugh and narrowed her eyes in amusement at Haskins. "You actually think you're going to be granted _bail_?" She shook her head, chuckling coldly.

"I think you need to get back to some of those textbooks, Haskins…your clients committed a _felony against the state_." She emphasized the words dramatically, like one would to a slow child, and chuckled again.

He raised his eyebrows challengingly and sneered at her. "On the contrary," he said haughtily. "I'm sure Judge Verella will be _most_ inclined to grant my clients full compensation for their harsh situation…" A frosty glint reflected in his eyes that she swore was amusement. "Especially after hearing about their constitutional rights being so rudely trampled upon by the police."

She was so shocked that she couldn't keep her jaw from dropping. Disbelief and fury warred for control as she clenched her fists at her side.

"You must be out of your mind," she said, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the man in front of her. She tried to speak again and found she couldn't, instead shaking her head in astonishment again. "Wow…you really must be out of your mind."

His chin lifted smugly as he shifted his briefcase in his hand. He cocked his head gently and pinned her with a dangerous smirk as he strode closer to her.

"You've forgotten just who you're up against, Novak," he said menacingly. He smirked again and walked past her, throwing over his shoulder, "See you in the morning."

Casey was still so stunned by his accusation that she couldn't even muster up a snide comment to throw back.

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"Are you sure you guys will be alright by yourselves? I can come home…I don't have to stay tonight."

"No, don't worry about it," her daughter interrupted patiently. "I don't have class until three tomorrow…I was planning on staying the night here anyway."

Kathy checked her watch. "It's almost four," she said. "The twins should be getting home anytime…why don't you get a pizza for dinner? Take some money out of my desk drawer."

"Okay, Mom," Maureen said.

"Make sure you keep the doors locked," she fretted. "And keep a light on outside."

"Okay, Mom," she repeated.

"Is Kat home yet?" Kathy continued. "She might have had practice today….I didn't think to ask her this morning." She bit her lip. "Does she have her cell phone? Maybe I should call-"

"Mom," Maureen broke in. "Relax. We'll be fine, I promise you." Her voice became soft. "Stay with Daddy." She paused. "How is he doing?"

Kathy grimaced. "He…" She sighed miserably, deciding almost on a whim to be up-front with her almost 22 year-old oldest child. "Maureen…he- he had to have surgery this afternoon."

Horrified silence filled the other end of the receiver.

"Wh-why?" she asked, stunned.

The question caused her to freeze. It suddenly came rushing back to her that her kids still had no idea about his condition. Her eyes slammed closed as her heart dropped to her feet.

"He-he….his…"

She couldn't say it. She couldn't tell her daughter such devastating news about her father, no matter how old she was.

"He's…very badly injured, honey," she managed to choke out. "He'll end up needing…quite a bit of surgery."

Tears rolled silently down the young woman's cheeks. "What happened to him?" she whispered. "They hurt him…did they hurt him, Mom?"

Kathy swallowed hard, horrified to hear her voice cracking when she spoke.

"Don't…" She swallowed again. "Maureen, he's here with us. That's all that counts." She blinked back her tears rapidly. "Just be thankful he's here with us."

A small sob escaped.

"I am," Maureen choked painfully. "I thank God every day." She sobbed again. "I'm…I'm just so scared."

Silence met her ears for a minute. When her mother spoke again, there was a raw emotion in her voice that was frightening.

"I am too, sweetheart," Kathy whispered, closing her eyes. "I am too."

A slam from the distance made Maureen jump violently.

"Mom?"

Elizabeth's voice carried along into the kitchen where she stood and she swallowed the lump in her throat quickly.

"Liz and Dickie are here," she said. "Do you want to talk to them?"

"Mom?" Lizzie repeated, louder.

A beeping next to her ear made Kathy jump in surprise. "Oh-crap," she said in dismay, pulling the phone from her ear and looking at the faceplate. "Maureen, my battery's about to die." She sighed angrily. "I'll have to call you back later, honey. I love you."

"I love you, too," she answered. "Tell Daddy I love him."

Kathy's throat closed. "I will," she managed.

The distinct click told her that the phone was dead and she shook her head as she lowered it from her ear.

"MOM!"

Dickie's obnoxiously loud yell made Maureen wince as she hung up. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

"STOP SCREAMING!" she yelled in reply, groaning.

Her brother's footsteps came clomping down the stairs. "What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise. He went to the refrigerator and threw open the door.

"I'm staying over," she answered. "Mom's spending the night with Dad." She got to her feet and rubbed her temples again tiredly. "You want pizza tonight?"

"Pizza?" Elizabeth cut in. Maureen turned to face her younger sister as she came in. "We just had pizza two days ago."

She screwed up her face. "Well, what do you want for dinner, then?"

The door slammed shut again. Dickie looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. "Can we order Chinese?"

She shrugged. "It's cool with me," she said, turning to her sister with a cocked eyebrow. "Liz?"

Elizabeth's delighted smile was enough to confirm her answer. "Sweet!" she said.

"Shrimp fried rice?"

"Yuck!" Dickie said immediately. "Lo mein."

"We can get whatever you guys want," Maureen interrupted. "Just make a decision …I'm planning to order when Kat comes home, which should be in about a half-hour."

She left them arguing over menu items and went upstairs. Rubbing her eyes wearily, she went into her mother's bathroom and closed the door.

Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at her reflection and gripped the edges of the sink.

The tears streamed down her face and the image began to blur.

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Rush hour had started by the time they reached Buffalo.

Don groaned when he saw the line of cars stretching in front of them and took his foot off of the gas. He let the car slow to a crawl and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

The radio was drowned out by the sound of impatient honks and irritated drivers. He leaned back in his seat and shifted the car into park, sensing that they wouldn't be moving for a while. He glanced over at Fin.

The detective had shifted his body toward the door and had been staring out the window for the entire two hours they had been in the car. He hadn't said a word since they had pulled out of the precinct parking lot.

The captain glanced out the windshield for a moment and back discreetly, debating on whether or not to say something. The mood was heavily solemn, understandably, and he didn't know if trying to lighten the atmosphere would come across as offensive.

"What's on your mind, Captain?"

The soft voice made him jump. The detective was still facing away from him.

He turned back toward the steering wheel quickly, trying to downplay how much Fin had startled him. "Nothing," he said nonchalantly. "What makes you think there's something on my mind?"

"You've looked over here three times and haven't said anything," he said. He suddenly turned slightly, and although his face was still in its trademark scowl, a hint of amusement twinkled in his eyes for a second. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you want to say something."

Don felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment and he turned his head momentarily. When he thought he had the blush under control, he turned back. When he saw Fin's face again, he was disappointed to see that the amusement seemed to be his imagination.

"Nothing's on my mind, Fin," he said, sighing. He shook his head in defeat and continued quietly, "I'm just worried."

A moment of silence fell.

Turning back to the window once more, Fin said softly, "We're all worried, Captain." Don could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I can't imagine the kind of pain he must be in."

He shook his head, unable to speak further.

The captain closed his eyes. He felt sick. "I agree," he said weakly. "But…that's actually not what I'm talking about."

Fin turned to face him then.

He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, trying to combat the feeling of nausea. "Now that those guys have lawyered up, things are going to start rolling fast…you and I both know that."

His heart began to race just thinking about it. "We're going to make him give a statement…he's going to be subpoenaed for a line-up…" He trailed off. When he spoke again, his voice became choked.

"We still don't have any idea just what kind of hell he's been through."

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A light knock on the door made Kathy look up blearily.

Melinda smiled sympathetically as she came inside, balancing two cups in her hand. "Here," she said. "I brought you some coffee." She set one down beside the chair that the blonde sat in, seeing both of her hands wrapped around Elliot's.

"Sorry…I'm not sure how you take it," she apologized as she set packets of sugar next to the cup as well. She looked around, still holding the other cup. "Where's Olivia?"

Kathy straightened up in the seat, gently disentangling her hands from his, and groaned softly. "She ran out to get us something to eat," she said, running her fingers through the mess of blonde tangles. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Shouldn't be too long, I imagine…"

Reaching down, she picked up the Styrofoam cup and three of the sugar packets. "Thank you," she said softly, summoning up a small smile.

Melinda nodded somberly. "How's he doing?" she asked sadly, stepping closer to the bed. Her face was etched with sadness as she studied his sleeping frame.

Kathy moved the chair a little, an unspoken invitation for the woman so that she could move closer to Elliot. She balanced the cup between her knees and began ripping open the sugar.

"Doctor Beck says he's doing fine…" She shrugged wearily, and when she looked at her, Melinda saw an extreme tiredness in her eyes that she'd never noticed before. "He did say he'd be out all night, so….I guess we really won't know until tomorrow."

The medical examiner looked at her sympathetically. "You're staying here tonight?" she estimated.

Kathy nodded.

"Do you need anything? Pajamas, a toothbrush…anything like that?" she continued. "I can stop by the store and get it for you…"

The blonde shook her head, her smile genuine. "No," she declined. "Thank you very much, Doctor Warner….that's very kind of you, but I'll be fine."

The black woman bit her lip slightly. "Melinda."

"Excuse me?" Kathy said, slightly startled.

She smiled softly, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. "Call me Melinda," she repeated. "Please….only strangers call me Doctor Warner."

Her expression warmed Kathy's heart and she had to swallow. She cleared her throat to downplay her reaction. "Of course," she said gruffly, attempting to play off the emotions. "I suppose we'd be silly to think ourselves strangers by now, wouldn't we?"

Melinda turned away from the bed and stepped closer to Kathy. Her eyes were soft and her face open as she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I consider Elliot a friend," she said softly. "A…a very good friend." The words sounded strange to her ears. She realized suddenly that though they worked together quite often, she had never actually voiced that opinion out loud to anybody. "He has his faults just like everyone else…but I have yet to meet a man with a better heart."

She saw tears in the other woman's eyes and smiled, softening her expression.

"You and I may not know each other well, Kathy…" Again, saying her first name sounded foreign. "But you've always been a friend in my book, just because he loves you."

Kathy was so touched that she couldn't speak, but it didn't matter. Melinda smiled warmly at her, gently laid a hand on Elliot's arm for a minute, and walked to the doorway.

"I'm going to head back," she said softly. "Olivia has my number, so make sure you call if you need anything…do you want me to stay until she gets here?"

She was surprised when the other woman suddenly got to her feet, strode over to where she stood, and hugged her warmly.

"No," she said, holding her at arms length. "Go on home, Melinda…go see your daughter. You've done so much for him…for me…" She trailed off, beginning to tear up. She hugged her again. "I'll never be able to repay you."

Melinda smiled and squeezed her hand. "Goodnight."

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Her desk lamp was beginning to hurt her eyes.

Grimacing, she pushed her chair away from the desk and dropped her face in her hands, scrubbing her eyes vigorously.

She tilted her arm toward her face and checked her watch. 7:43.

Her stomach growled furiously, reminding her yet again that lunch was a distant memory. Casey sighed and scooted up to the desk once more, leaning over the files for the hundredth time.

_Unregistered .38 automatic._

_Drunk driving_

_Drinking in public_

_**Disturbing the peace?**_

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said aloud in astonishment.

There was no doubt in her mind that the seven men being held downstairs were vicious, brutal monsters. They were responsible for terrorizing Elliot, no question.

And the only files that could be dug up on them were….**misdemeanors**?

_Be patient…CSU hasn't finished collecting all the evidence from the scene yet…you've still got Elliot's testimony, above everything else...don't panic…_

But she couldn't stop the small feeling of fear that was starting to form in her stomach.

Dwight Haskins may have been heartless, but he definitely had his job mastered. His victories dominated the New York State Bar Journal…he had an undefeated record to date.

A knock on the glass pane of the office door made her jump about four feet.

"Come in," she said quickly, shaking herself.

She saw the silhouette of a person on the other side as the door began to open slowly. When the person didn't immediately come into her sight, her brows furrowed and she sat up straighter, instinctively pushing herself away from the desk.

The memory of being attacked in her office was never far from her mind. There was a dangerous group of convicts only one flight of stairs away…

"Knock, knock," a man's voice said.

She relaxed, feeling foolish. "Hi, John," she said.

The lanky detective sauntered into the office and took a seat in the chair next to the window. "Why are you still here?" he asked bluntly.

Pushing herself further away from the desk, she stretched and raised an eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same question," she responded.

He tipped his head down and gave her his patented skeptical stare over the rims of his glasses.

"I'm a cop," he said dryly. "The crappy hours and insulting salary unfortunately aren't enough of an incentive….they make me work nights too."

She gave him an exasperated smirk and he grinned.

"I'm just going over some notes for the morning," she said, glancing back at the mess of files littering her desk. "All I've been able to dig up on these guys are… drunk driving charges and low-grade misdemeanors." The frustration made her voice gruffer than normal and it couldn't be hidden.

Munch straightened immediately, leaning forward. The cold look on his face startled her.

"Could they get out on bail?" he asked, his voice hard.

She looked at him, surprised, and had to blink.

The fear began to creep higher up the back of her throat.

"Casey…we can't let them out of our sight," he continued urgently. His eyes were anxious. "Whatever happens, you **can't** let them get bail."

A twinge of hurt flashed in her eyes.

"I don't intend to, John," she snapped harshly.

Tense silence fell between them as they stared at each other.

She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically. "They're not going to get bail," she said softly. "Trust me…the initial hearing isn't even an issue. Don't worry about that."

_It's the arraignment that we should be worrying about._

His expression softened immediately and he chewed slightly on his lip.

"Have you eaten?" he asked quietly.

White flag.

She smiled gently. "Thanks," she said genuinely. She sighed and looked at the files again. "I really should stay-"

Her stomach gurgled loudly, interrupting her. She glanced down at her middle and back up, meeting his amused gaze sheepishly.

"Maybe I…could use a snack," she said, grinning.

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She cursed as she dropped her keys onto the linoleum.

Stabbing the elevator button quickly, she bent down and tried to pick them up with her index finger while shifting the bags in her arms carefully.

Suddenly two pairs of legs were striding next to her.

"Need a hand?" a voice said lightly.

She lifted her head in surprise and let the captain pick up her keys.

"Hey," she said, unable to keep the note of shock from her voice. She hadn't expected to see them; much less at this hour. "Thank you."

He smiled and took one of the bags she was carrying. Before she could protest, Fin was grabbing the other.

The door opened and they piled inside the elevator.

"I…I didn't know you were coming," she said, looking sheepishly at the bags. "You should have told me…I would have gotten you guys something."

Fin flicked his eyebrows. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving a hand carelessly. "We're not even hungry."

"How's Elliot?" the captain asked in concern.

The anxiety hung in the air immediately and they all sobered instinctively.

Olivia chewed her lip unconsciously. "He came out of surgery about four hours ago," she said softly. "The doctor said everything went smoothly." She sighed anxiously and shook her head, seeming far off. "They…the doctors, they…they wanted to do a full castration. Melinda talked them out of it for now."

She saw the shock and horror flood each of their faces, but she was so detached at the moment that all she did was wait silently.

The car went up three more floors and still no one said a single word.

She shook her head again as the doors opened.

"Is John with you?" she asked, turning to Fin as they all stepped off.

His face turned morose and he shook his head in disappointment. She sighed in defeat but didn't say anything.

When they got to the door, the two men stepped back a little and let her lead. She knocked softly before opening the door.

"Kathy?" she said quietly, sticking her head in. The blonde looked over and smiled tiredly. "Cragen and Fin are here…is it okay if they come in?"

"Of course," she answered immediately.

Olivia gestured with her head and they followed her inside.

"Hi, Captain," Kathy said softly. "Fin."

Cragen smiled at her gently, but Fin was looking at the bed, his expression distraught.

"He's just sleeping," she said, leaning slightly to the side to speak directly to him. "He went through surgery fine. The doctor said with the drugs they have him on, he's definitely not in pain right now."

The detective swallowed hard and tore his eyes away to meet Kathy's sympathetic gaze. He managed a small smile but didn't speak.

Olivia cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly and took the bag from Cragen. "Here," she said, handing it to Kathy. "Where's Melinda?"

"She went home about twenty minutes ago," she answered, taking out a sandwich. She looked back up at Olivia. "I told her to go get some rest."

Olivia nodded in agreement. "Well, I got her a sandwich," she said, looking over at the men. "But since she's not here…"

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Fin was digging through the bag he still held. When he pulled out the sandwich, he caught the captain looking at him in amused disgust. Olivia was rolling her eyes and smirking.

"What?" he asked.

"I thought you weren't hungry?" she said accusingly. His guilty expression made her laugh; it was so unlike him that it was hilarious.

He sniffed. "I said '_we're' _not hungry," he said, emphasizing the word. He looked at her defensively. "Never said anything about me."

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. He looked over at the captain and was rewarded with a stern expression.

He swallowed, raising his eyebrows guiltily.

"Captain?" he said pathetically, offering the sandwich out to him.

Cragen shook his head and was unable to keep his laugh inside. "No, that's okay," he said, rolling his eyes. He held out his hands to fend it away. "It's all yours."

He bit into the sandwich hungrily without further prompting.

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Maureen finished checking the locks and padded back into the living room. She flopped onto the sofa with a tired sigh and sprawled into the cushions.

"You got class tomorrow?" Kathleen asked from the dining room table behind her, not looking up from the formula she was busy writing.

"At three," she answered tiredly. She rubbed her temples again. "Have we got any aspirin?"

"You won't find out sitting there," her sister responded idly, continuing to pump out the ridiculously long physics equation.

Maureen scowled as she sat up and shot her younger sister a venomous look. Kathleen wasn't even looking at her.

She got to her feet with a heavy sigh and came into the kitchen, standing on her tiptoes to open the cabinet above the refrigerator.

The pill bottle rattled obnoxiously as her sister shook them into her palm and Kathleen clenched her teeth.

"What are you working on?" Maureen asked, filling a glass from the sink tap. She popped the pills into her mouth and downed the water slowly.

"Physics," Kathleen clipped shortly.

The older girl put the glass into the sink and came over to the table. She sat down in a chair across from her sister lazily.

"Do you need any help?" The words were instinctive and out of her mouth before she could think about them. "I had a pretty rough time with Physics in high school."

"Then why are you asking to help?" Kathleen spat out harshly.

The younger girl's face burned as she dipped her head. Silence met her ears.

"Goodnight," her sister said softly, getting up from the chair.

Kathleen listened to her footsteps go up the stairs. Ducking her head, she began to cry painfully, covering her mouth so that the sound wouldn't carry.

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"You good?" Olivia asked, settling onto the cot the nurse had placed in the room. She lifted her head and peered into the darkness toward Kathy's general direction. "Sure you don't want to sleep here?"

Kathy shifted in the chair she sat in and lifted her feet to rest on the edge of the bed carefully. She pulled the blanket over her shoulders and checked to make sure Elliot still had enough room.

"No, I'm fine," she said softly.

Her back was already starting to scream and it had only been two minutes. She was going to really regret it in the morning, she could tell.

She shifted position restlessly, squirming around in attempt to rest her head on some kind of flat surface. She ended up turning slightly sideways and sliding down enough so that her neck was craned, but she stayed there anyway.

Somewhere across the room, hard metal springs squeaked restlessly as Olivia tried to get comfortable on the impossible rough surface. The pillow was much too flat for her liking and nothing she did could change that. She sighed angrily and resigned to her fate, laying flat.

"Goodnight," Kathy's voice was barely audible.

The silence was unbearable. She always had a fan on somewhere in her apartment no matter what the temperature was outside just because she couldn't sleep in dead quiet.

"Goodnight," she replied softly.

The coming hours would find both women shifting and squirming restlessly while neither found any semblance of sleep. The only one in the room who wouldn't be uncomfortable would be the one who had already had enough pain for all three of their lifetimes.

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He coughed, the sound like a bomb exploding in the dead quiet around him. The dim light casting a glow over the desk in front of him was the only source of illumination in the otherwise dreary squad room.

John scrawled another signature on another form that he hadn't even read and placed it in his box, mechanically reaching for another. It was half past midnight and he had sunk to actually doing paperwork on other detective's desks nearby.

Except one.

As if acting on their own volition, his eyes flitted up once again to gaze at the desk next to his.

Someone had enough clout to finally dump the coffee that had been sitting in the mug and rinse it out, but it had come right back to rest in the exact same spot. The bright green ceramic seemed like an insult, but no one dared touch it.

The lamp, too, had eventually been switched off to save the bulb, but the computer remained on. The word "Hoorah" scrolled across the screen exactly 413 times every day…not that he was counting.

Files from cases long since solved were lying open across the top.

Squeezing his eyes shut, John jerked his head back down again.

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A squeaking noise penetrated his consciousness.

His head was thick with fog as he opened his eyes and looked around.

"Doctor Stein, to pre-natal…Doctor Stein, you're needed at pre-natal." The monotone voice echoed through the open door and he turned his head.

People in scrubs were walking past the door, chatting. Carts were being wheeled along the floor.

Turning his head slowly back, he gazed at the equipment around him as it slowly sank in where he was. He looked around again.

Voices from outside filtered in once more as the people continued walking past the door.

His heart immediately began hammering.

_You're in a hospital…there's plenty of people here…they can't get to you here…_

His throat began to tighten and he shifted closer to the wall.

_Jason Evans could be the next person to walk through that door._

The pounding of his heart was now making it difficult to draw a breath.

_He could easily get up one of the stairwells…with all this activity, no one would hear him. _

Tears spilled out of his eyes as he began looking around frantically for something…**anything**…to defend himself with. Sobs of terror began to hitch in his chest.

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"Morning, Doc."

She smiled tiredly at the young man as she came through the doors. Her smile widened when she saw the coffee he was holding out to her.

Starbucks.

"Grande hazelnut," he said perkily. "With a shot of espresso."

Melinda took the cup from his outstretched hand and looked at the technician fondly. "Gary," she said. "If I wasn't married, I'd kiss you right now."

The young blonde shrugged, also smiling. "Consider it an apology for dragging you out of bed at 6:30 in the morning," he said. "I just thought you'd want to see the results as soon as they arrived back."

She swallowed the sweet coffee gratefully and nodded. "I do," she said quickly. "Believe me, I do."

"Ask and ye shall receive," he said, handing a file to her.

The woman swallowed another mouthful as she walked over to the table, laying the file down on the counter beside the wash basin. She reached up and switched on the powerful ultraviolet light.

She flipped it open and began lifting out the pages.

The photographs had been developed and blown up. Taking a pen from her lab coat, she began painstakingly labeling each one chronologically and tacking them up under the light.

This she could handle. Process details. Collect information. Solve the puzzle.

The next page revealed the results of the rape kit. Her trained eye began automatically skimming the details and she didn't let herself feel anything as she retained the information.

Eight different seminal fluids, including his, total.

Pubic hairs present not consistent with the ones from the sample she took.

Skin fragments not the same DNA as the blood she had taken.

Though she already had expected it, the thought of Elliot Stabler being raped still made her stomach turn. There was no denying it. The evidence was right in front of her.

Shaking her head in disturbance, she scanned the rest of the page and suddenly froze on the last paragraph closest to the bottom.

Blinking, she went back and re-read it, certain she was mistaken.

Her throat suddenly began to close and she could taste the coffee as it began to climb back up.

"Oh, my God," she murmured in shock. Her eyebrows rose in shock and astonishment. "Oh…oh, my God."


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**251 reviews so far…man, you guys are nuts. But thank you. My joyful little heart is bursting at the seams.**

Yawning, Kathy walked out of the women's restroom.

When she rounded the corner, she saw Olivia talking on her cell phone at the other end of the hall. She rubbed her eyes tiredly.

His sobs were breathy and she heard them before she even set foot into the room. Her heart skipped a beat as she strode quickly through the doorway.

Elliot was awake and sitting up, cowering as far against the wall as possible in the confinements of the bed. Her heart raced as she went over to him; her eyes wide as she frantically checked over what she could see of his body.

"What is it?" she asked, panicked, her eyes raking over him. "What hurts, Elliot?" She reached for the call button and stabbed it. "Tell me what hurts, baby…hold on, the nurse will be here in a minute. Just hold on, sweetheart."

He shook his head rapidly and inched even closer to the wall, still sobbing soundlessly. His chest was heaving.

Kathy was terrified. Instinct had her wanting to wrap him in her arms, but he just kept scooting away from her.

"Please….please…."

He was attempting to get words out and having great difficulty.

"What's the matter?"

An urgent female voice became distinct. Kathy turned her head towards the nurse with panic in her eyes.

"I don't know," she said helplessly, her voice choked.

"Please," he whispered, gasping in a breath. "Olivia…where's Olivia?"

_No._

Her heart rose into her throat. She didn't even realize that her horrified whisper had been heard out loud.

"_He knows you."_

Tears filled her eyes but she bravely blinked them away.

"Elliot," she choked desperately, reaching out to him with her hand.

His face screwed up even more as he made no move toward her.

"I need Olivia," he whispered, sobbing again. "Please…please get Olivia."

The nurse looked at Kathy urgently.

Her heart was on the floor, but she closed her eyes and bravely looked the woman in the eye.

"His partner," she whispered. She swallowed hard. "Detective Benson…she's in the hallway."

The woman was out the door in seconds. Kathy turned back to face the bed and couldn't hold the tears in any longer.

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"…there were seven different semen samples."

Her eyes slammed closed in defeat and pain. She had to pause to take a breath before she was calm enough to speak again.

"What about STD's?" she continued, her heart racing.

The thought of her best friend living with an incurable sexually transmitted disease passed on from some vile pervert had last night's dinner coming up the back of her throat.

"Olivia…" Melinda said awkwardly before trailing off.

She felt the tears building. _Oh, Jesus...no…_

"I hate to be blunt," she continued. "But I'm afraid that we're looking at nothing short of a miracle. None of the assailants had a sexually transmitted disease."

The tears came crashing out of the detective's eyes before she could stop them. _Thank you God…oh, thank you God._

It took her a minute to notice that the medical examiner had gone silent on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, Melinda," she said, sniffling. She wiped her eyes and quickly composed herself, clearing her throat. "I…I know how hard this was for you. Thank you…thank you so much for everything you've done." She shook her head. "You have no idea just how grateful I am, and I know the others feel the same."

The black woman hardly heard her as she continued staring at the bottom paragraph of the document she was holding. She'd read the words fifty times and yet still had to stare at them hard to believe them.

"Olivia, listen," she said desperately. She paused a minute. "I…I asked Doctor Beck to do an anal swab during the surgery…"

The detective obviously mistook her hesitance as fear of the reaction she would receive, because she was quick to interrupt.

"No-Melinda, please don't worry about it," Olivia said reassuringly. "I understand…after seeing his reaction to what you were able to get done, I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your position."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart convulsing against her ribcage. "It's not that," she choked out, horrified to hear the weakness of her own voice. She took a shuddering breath. "I…there-" On the verge of rambling, the medical examiner stopped.

Olivia felt her blood freeze again as the fear took over.

"What?" she asked urgently. Her throat closed. "Melinda…**what**?"

She listened to the other woman blow out a breath before coming back over the line.

"There were splinters," Melinda said painfully. "A wooden object was used at some point." Her voice began to tremble. "The…the knife nicked his colon…."

Her voice trailed off and through the ferocious beating of her heart in her ears, Olivia recognized that she wasn't finished.

Olivia was startled when the phone slipped from where she had it hooked under her chin. Pulling it away slightly, she saw the keypad wet and realized she was crying.

"What?" she whispered brokenly. Her heart felt like it was being crushed. "Tell me."

Melinda blew out a breath through her nose. "The swab picked up traces of scandium alloy," she said heavily, barely able to get the words out.

Olivia started, confused. "What?" she asked.

The ultraviolet light suddenly became too much to bear and she had to turn away. She blinked, trying to clear the spots from her eyes.

"What is that?" the detective continued urgently.

The phone cord began to shake with the tremble of her hand.

"It's a metal used in small crafts and…." She swallowed hard. "And firearms."

She had to blink to remain aloof. The cell phone began to slip in her hand.

"A…a gun," Olivia said slowly, in sheer disbelief. She blinked again, unable to process the words. "They…they raped him with a gun."

When Melinda spoke, there was such raw pain in her voice that Olivia had to fight the urge to panic.

"The gun was a Smith and Wesson…model 910S, 9-millimeter pistol," she said, almost whispering. Her hand shook slightly. "It-it…." She closed her eyes. "It's registered to you, Olivia." The tears she was holding back began to slip free. "He was raped with your gun."

Her breath caught suddenly and the blood went straight to her knees, making her stumble. She reached out quickly to the sterile white walls and struggled to breathe.

The medical examiner didn't say anything as she waited painfully.

"Melinda…" she wheezed. Her chest began to cave in, making her panic and gasp for breath. "There…has t-to be a mistake…there-there has to be….a…."

The black woman squeezed her eyes closed and kept silent.

Bright colors were popping in front of her eyes and Olivia began to tremble hard as the memory came up into her mind.

They had kicked her gun out of her hand before handcuffing her to the stairs. She had raced straight out of the garage when Munch had freed her and hadn't even given a thought to her weapon…which means that it wasn't anywhere close by. If it had been, one of them would have seen it.

It hadn't even occurred to her that it was missing until much later that day when she was removing her gun belt. She honestly hadn't considered the possibility of them taking it; she'd thought it had simply been kicked somewhere into the darkness of the building.

"Oh, my God," she wheezed, strangled. The tears flooded down her face but she hardly felt them. "Oh, my God…"

"Detective Benson!"

Jumping in surprise and shock, she whirled around to see a woman in light blue hurrying towards her. The R.N. badge stood out starkly on her chest.

"What's wrong?" she asked, swiping her eyes. The cell phone dropped forgotten to her side and the fear made it hard to breathe.

"He's asking for you," the woman said urgently. "Something's wrong, he's very upset…" She began hurrying back towards the room. "Please, he-"

Her feet were flying before the nurse could finish speaking. The phone fell to the floor.

"Olivia?" Melinda asked, her heart leaping.

A loud dial tone in her ear startled her.

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For the first time in a long time, she woke up with a boulder in her stomach.

She leaned over and turned off the alarm, not due to go off for almost another hour, and lay back against the pillows again. She was much too tired to be awake, yet she knew there was no way she would be going back to sleep.

Casey had been up until nearly 1:30 re-reading her notes and checking her briefcase for the millionth time since arriving home. The foreign feeling of apprehension that had tightened her insides only got worse as the morning continued to creep closer. For being such a crucial beginning to what was certain to be the toughest case she'd tried to date, she wasn't feeling very confident.

She wasn't feeling very confident at all.

The ambiguous mystery of getting decent rap sheets on any one of the seven men currently still in holding had her against a wall. Every possible source she could think to contact gave her the same misdemeanor information that she already knew, and trying to get in touch with Dwight Haskins was like attempting to telephone the fucking President.

The certainty with which she had assured Munch the night before was becoming harder to drudge up and it annoyed the living hell out of her. She hadn't second-guessed herself since her days as a struggling student and didn't know how to deal with the feeling.

_There's no way they'll get bail. Judge Verella is fair; he doesn't let himself get bullied by the defense._

_But Haskins must know something I don't… "Constitutional rights trampled upon"? _

_That can't be true. Cragen definitely would have said something. _

_But cops never rat on their fellow officers, no matter what the circumstance…so maybe something did happen and no one wants to fess up._

_No. They don't have a chance of getting released on their own. One look at Elliot is proof enough that these guys are more than a flight risk._

_But no one's gotten a statement yet. I haven't been sent any photographs or lab results from a rape kit. It's my word against theirs._

_Any one with a newspaper or television knows about the kidnapping. Surely Judge Verella will take that into account…people have been denied bail based on reasonable suspicion before. If anything, the misdemeanors will work in my favor._

Getting up, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. She stared at her reflection and didn't like what she saw.

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"Maur."

The hesitant whisper became slightly more insistent and loud.

"Maur..."

She started and opened her eyes to find herself almost flattened against the wall beside her bed. Blinking, she rolled over and came face-to-face with Elizabeth.

"What?" she asked groggily, propping herself on one elbow wearily. "What's the matter?"

Her younger sister's brows knit tightly, almost making her face seemed stretched because of the tight French braids she had woven into her hair, and she looked down at Maureen like she was insane.

"Me and Dickie are leaving for school," she said, shifting her backpack higher up her shoulder. "Hannah's mom is driving us."

She became aware that sunlight was filtering in through the thin curtains of her window. Raising herself up higher with her elbow, she looked at the clock and saw that it was twenty after eight. She groaned and flopped back down again.

"You guys get your lunches?" she murmured into the pillow, squinting up at her little sister.

Elizabeth gave her another incredulous look. "Mom keeps lunch money in the desk," she said, sounding like she was talking to a slow child. "I guess Dickie packed his lunch…I don't know." She shrugged dismissively and began backing away from the bed. "See you later."

"Mmm," she grunted, closing her eyes.

A thought made her spring up suddenly. "Hey," she called out, turning toward where Liz was about to walk down the hallway. Her sister poked her head back into the room with a questioning expression. Maureen studied her with a playful glint in her eye. "When did you learn how to braid?"

The younger girl rolled her eyes. "I didn't," she said, like it should have been obvious. "Kat did it for me." She rolled her eyes again. "Go back to sleep….you're acting major strange."

Maureen raised her eyebrows playfully. Elizabeth's face split into a grin a second before she disappeared out the door.

She chuckled and flopped back against the pillow again, but couldn't get back to sleep. With a groan, she finally sat up.

She blew out a huffy breath and rubbed her eyes as she went down the stairs. At least with all of her siblings gone it would be quiet. One thing she definitely didn't get in the mornings at the dorm was quiet...she had starting sleeping with earplugs after discovering her roommate used the blow-dryer every morning.

Padding into the kitchen, she pulled open the refrigerator door and removed the jug of orange juice. She turned toward the cabinet to get a glass, but stopped halfway through the motion.

_What the hell._

Twisting the cap off, Maureen lifted the jug to her mouth and took a long swig.

"That's really gross."

The voice cut through the empty silence like a bullhorn and she jumped, choking. Orange juice sprayed out of her mouth and all over the hardwood floor.

Slamming the door closed quickly, she looked over into the living room to see Kathleen on the couch, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Jesus Christ!" Maureen exclaimed angrily, slamming the jug onto the counter quickly. She huffed out a breath, feeling her heart racing. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Her sister's face was twisted into a grimace of disgust. "What the hell is your problem?" she asked. "Did it ever occur to you that some of us might want to drink that, too?"

She smacked the cap back on the jug quickly and shoved it back inside the refrigerator. She glared at Kathleen. "Why aren't you at school?"

"Does Mom know you do that?" Kathleen egged sassily.

"Oh, shut up!" Maureen cried, shaking her head. "Answer me…why aren't you at school?"

Kathleen scoffed snottily and rolled her eyes. "Oh, get over yourself," she snapped. "Like you never skipped school before."

"Does Mom know you do that?" the older girl parroted triumphantly, eyebrows raised challengingly.

She glared at her. "What are you, Little Miss Perfect now?" she cried in exasperation. "God! I thought you'd be cool about it, at least."

The look on her sister's face startled her. Kathleen looked genuinely upset….hurt and sadness were rolled together into one.

Uncomfortable silence wrapped around both of them.

Maureen shrugged. "I never said I wasn't cool with it," she said. "You can do what you want…I'm not your baby-sitter." She shrugged again impassively and walked back into the kitchen.

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The squad room was bustling with activity as four officers were escorting two handcuffed men into holding. When he heard a phone ring, Officer Kent Grant turned and dashed for his desk. He picked up the receiver and punched the flashing button for the reception.

"Tenth Precinct," he said briskly, still looking over his shoulder at his colleagues. "Officer Grant."

"Can I speak to Officer O'Hara, please?"

Grant turned toward his partner's side of the desk and looked around. "Hang on," he said after a minute. "I'll see if I can find him."

He punched the hold button and replaced the receiver before walking over to the doors.

Don let out a nervous breath and switched the phone to his left ear, gazing through the picture window into the bright morning sunshine.

Spotting a figure walking toward him in his side vision, Grant turned to see just who he was looking for.

"Mike!" he called.

O'Hara looked surprised as he acknowledged his colleague with raised eyebrows. Grant made a gesture toward his ear. "Line 2."

With a slightly suspicious expression, he went toward the nearest desk and picked up the handset, punching the line.

"O'Hara," he said.

"Officer O'Hara," an unfamiliar voice said hesitantly. "This is Captain Donald Cragen from Manhattan Special Victims."

His eyes flew wide and all thoughts flew from his mind at once.

"Captain, hello,"" he said immediately. "How is Detective Stabler doing?"

Cragen winced slightly. "He's been undergoing a number of surgeries since we brought him in," he said after a minute, hesitant to give details but still wanting to be honest to the man after all he'd done. "For now, that's about as much as I know."

O'Hara grimaced sympathetically but didn't speak, not knowing quite what to say.

A minute of awkward pause followed and Cragen cleared his throat. "Um… I'm very sorry to bother you at work, but-"

"No, no," O'Hara cut in quickly. "It's not a problem at all, Captain. What can I do for you?"

He let out another nervous breath and began to pace the short distance between the bed and the door instinctively.

"I'm up here at a hotel about twenty miles from the hospital," he said. "I came up last night after Detective Benson called to tell me about the latest surgery…" He stopped, on the verge of rambling, and took a breath. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

"Of course," the officer replied without hesitation. "Just name it."

The reality of the situation suddenly crashed in on him and he lost his breath.

_I should call Olivia first…it's too soon. _

_It has to be done. The initial appearance is scheduled in an hour…if we don't get it now the case will go to shit before it starts._

"Captain?"

O'Hara's voice startled him back to reality. Clenching his teeth, he clutched the phone in his hand and spat it out before he could lose his nerve. "I was wondering if I might be able to borrow a recorder," he said. "The initial proceedings will be starting soon and I have to get a statement before heading back to Manhattan." He swallowed. "I…I wasn't planning on…I would have grabbed one myself before coming up here, but-"

"Don't even worry about it," O'Hara interrupted matter-of-factly. "You can have whatever you need from us anytime you need it. Do you want to come here or would you rather I came to drop it off?"

He was so relieved that he could have cried. "Oh, no," he said quickly. "You don't do a thing…I'll come to you, Officer O'Hara. You're sure it's not a problem?"

"Not at all," he assured firmly.

Emotion rose in his throat again. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he said thickly. He shook his head. "Thank you, Officer O'Hara…thank you so much."

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"Shh, Elliot…" The desperation and agony in Kathy's voice was obvious even from outside. "Honey, Olivia's right outside. She isn't going anywhere."

She hurried through the door to see Kathy lightly gripping his hand as he burrowed up against the wall. The sight of him made her die inside and her heart drop to her feet.

"What's the matter?" she asked urgently, announcing herself.

The blonde whipped toward her voice. His face twisted and he sobbed her name pleadingly. Fear made her blood cold as she strode to the bedside.

Kathy moved away without a word, dropping his hand gently as she stepped up.

"What's the matter?" she asked him, lowering her voice in an attempt to sooth him. He reached out to cling to her and she felt him shaking, totally blowing her away. Her hand came up in an instant to cup his cheek. "What's the matter, Elliot?"

The terror in his eyes made her lose her breath. She had never seen such a look from him before and it frightened her.

"Stay here," he pleaded. He choked on a wet breath and tugged at her arm frantically. "Please don't leave…stay here, Olivia, _please!"_

Completely bewildered, her face screwed up in confusion, but she made sure to relax at once so that he couldn't see it.

"Okay," she said calmly, stroking his cheek tenderly. She raised her arm and cupped the other one soothingly. "I'm not going to go anywhere…we're not going to leave you, sweetheart."

Kathy started at the use of the word "we" and immediately felt guilty for her initial thoughts.

The sobs started to hurt. He moaned tearfully and held his breath, struggling to bend over to relieve the agonizing pain in his ribs.

"Mr. Stabler, I need you to try and calm down." The quiet voice of the nurse startled Olivia, who had forgotten she was in the room. The woman looked at him sympathetically. "Your ribs can't take much strain."

Shooting a glance behind her, Olivia recognized the urgent look that the nurse sent her and nodded slightly. She turned back to him and gently pried his hand from her arm to envelop into hers.

"She's right, Elliot," she said softly, stroking up into his hair again. He was gasping softly from exertion, starting to tire out. "There's nothing to be upset about…we're right here with you. We're right here with you."

A twinge shot in Kathy's heart at the sight of the tenderness in the detective's expression. She shook it aside quickly and kept watching anxiously, relieved to see him relaxing.

"What..." His voice was drowsy, matching the droopiness on his face, but his eyes remained anxious. He struggled to keep his grip tight on her hand. "What if they…come here?"

The realization flooded into her unexpectedly and the blonde found herself blinking back tears.

His face screwed up again. A barely audible sound, almost like a whine, bubbled slightly in the back of his throat. "Olivia, please… don't- don't let them come here." Tears rolled down his face as he began to crack once more and he sobbed. "Please stay here."

Kathy felt ashamed and relieved at the same time. He didn't feel safe. Even when drugged and completely helpless, the cop in him still automatically relied on his partner to protect him. Of course he would want her there.

Olivia's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Elliot," she said softly. She sighed tearfully and leaned her face down to rest gently against his. She felt horrible for him. "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you, honey."

She closed her eyes and pressed her face tighter into his cheek, lightly grazing her lips across it. "I promise," she murmured, blinking rapidly. "No one can get to you here. I promise."

The pain in her voice struck a chord in Kathy's heart and made her blink back tears again.

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"All rise."

The booming voice made her jump. She composed herself quickly and set her jaw, raising her head with as much confidence as she could muster.

"First district court," the bailiff continued to drone. "Docket number 10-2343, People v. Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas, and Jeffrey Pendleton. The honorable judge Warren L. Verella presiding."

Judge Verella came through the side door and up onto the bench.

"Be seated," the bailiff said to the small amount of observers.

Casey sat back down. There was a slight scuffling of chairs as Haskins and all of the men gathered around the defense table.

"How are you this morning, counsel?" the older man said courteously, his voice monotonous.

He was looking at her.

She started quickly. "Fine, thank you, your Honor," she said.

He nodded vaguely, looking over to the other table. "And you, Mr. Haskins?"

The defense attorney smiled smugly and she had to fight the urge the clench her teeth.

"Very well, your Honor," he said smoothly.

Putting on his glasses, the judge began reading over the sheets in front of him. Haskins stole a glance to the side and smirked at her coldly. Casey deliberately ignored him.

_So you want to play it that way, huh Haskins? We'll just see about that._

"Mr. Haskins," he said. "Are you clients prepared to hear charges?"

"Yes, your Honor," Haskins said.

He turned his head to the side, gesturing with a slight jerk of his neck and inaudible words. The seven men got to their feet.

"Your clients are being charged with kidnapping, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, sexual assault, and evading mandated custody," Judge Verella read from the sheet. He looked out at them. "Mr. Haskins, do your clients understand what they are being charged with?"

"Yes, your Honor," he replied.

"How do your clients plead?" he continued.

"Not guilty on all charges," Haskins said authoritatively. "Recommend bail be set at $25,000."

Casey felt her lip curling in disgust and struggled to keep her expression impassive.

Judge Verella turned toward her. "Ms. Novak," he questioned. "How do the people respond?"

Straightening her shoulders, she ejected her voice with authority. "Remand without bail, your Honor," she said. She turned toward the defense. "Mr. Haskin's clients are considered to be an extreme flight risk to the community and we ask that they be returned to the custody of New York police until arraignment."

"No such evidence of flight risk has been obtained by the people, your Honor," Haskins interjected immediately. "My clients were arrested without a warrant or probable cause and were denied basic human necessity while in holding by the police."

"Oh, please," she said harshly, turning toward him. "Your Honor-"

He looked over at Casey for a minute, his eyes narrowing, and cut in smoothly. "There has also been no statements filed about a sexual assault or kidnapping of any kind," he said. "Due to the wrongful accusation of my clients and the travesties committed against them by the police, I again insist for bail based solely on the evasion charges."

Casey looked at the judge and was worried when she saw him looking thoughtful.

"Your Honor," she said hurriedly. "A statement has not been filed because the victim has been in the Intensive Care Unit at Buffalo Mercy Hospital for the past 48 hours due to the damage inflicted on him by the defense. There are a number of law enforcement officers and medical personnel available to vouch for his condition, which at the moment prevents a competent testimony."

Haskins shook his head. "The alleged victim is a member of the NYPD, your Honor," he said. "Allowing such witnesses is a blatant act of prejudice against my clients."

"There are also a number of misdemeanor charges that have been filed against the defense that have nothing to do with the proceedings," she threw in, "Also evidence of the risk to society."

Seeing Haskins about to fire up again, Judge Verella held up his hand. The defense attorney didn't speak.

She fell silent and bit her lip. Her heart was hammering.

"While I **will **be looking into these allegations against the police," he said, looking stonily at Casey. "I have to agree with Ms. Novak. Without the victim, there is no proof of guilt or innocence." He looked at the defense attorney. "Based on your clients' histories with eluding the law, Mr. Haskins, I am hereby ordering the defendants placed in state custody until the trial date."

The gavel slammed down to finalize the decision and she smiled triumphantly.

"Anything else, Counselors?" he asked, looking to Casey first.

"No, your Honor," she said.

He looked to the defense attorney.

"Yes, your Honor," he said. Her head snapped toward him in surprise. "I would like to submit a motion for a change of venue to take place for the trial."

Her blood level rose. "Your Honor-" she began, somewhat stunned.

He cut her off. "Just a moment, Ms. Novak," he said gruffly, holding up a hand toward her.

She bit her lip and went silent.

"Continue, Mr. Haskins," he said.

Haskins looked over at her quickly. "Thank you, your Honor," he said. "As I am sure you are well aware, the circumstances involving the victim have received widespread media coverage around the area. Considering also that he is a New York police officer and works in this city, the likelihood is high of receiving a biased jury panel."

Judge Verella nodded. "Motion granted," he said. He leaned over and flipped through a calendar near his hand. "This court will hold a change of venue hearing on December 14th at 9:30 am to displace the location of trial proceedings." He scribbled something down and looked out again. "Anything else?"

Haskins smiled superiorly. "No, your Honor," he said, his voice oozing with charm.

The judge nodded. "Court is adjourned." He slammed the gavel down.

Observers began chatting as they stood. Judge Verella stood as well and headed for the door to his office.

Three uniformed guards came through the same door and headed to the defense table. None of the men resisted being led away. The seven of them were smiling cockily and laughing amongst themselves as they disappeared from sight.

"I know what you're doing Haskins," Casey said edgily, closing her briefcase. She glared at him stonily. "It's not going to make a difference what kind of jury hears this case. You're clients are facing serious time, and it will only get worse the more they are charged with. I'd advise you to encourage them to plead out while they still can."

Haskins scoffed. "In your dreams, Novak," he said coldly. He stood in front of her and tried to tower over her, but she planted her foot to the side and refused to let him. He looked at her predatorily. "You don't know who you're messing with," he growled softly. A glint of coldness flashed in his eyes. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Casey glared back at him.

Narrowing his eyes, the defense attorney turned away and walked from the courtroom.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

John exchanged a look with his partner as they stood up from the back bench of the courtroom. They watched the two attorneys exchange words but couldn't make out what was being said. Judging by the look of fury that crossed Casey's face when Haskins walked away from her, though, they could take a guess.

Fin turned his most intimidating scowl on the defense attorney as he followed John out of the bench, taking perverse pleasure at the look of discomfort that it received as Haskins hurried past.

Shaking her head wearily, she slung the briefcase onto her shoulder and walked toward the detectives.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Munch said as the three of them fell into step toward the doors. "You've won."

She sighed softly as he pushed the door open for her and waited for the two men to follow her through. "We're going to need his statement," she said gruffly, looking between them. The pain in her eyes made them shine. "There's only so much I can do…"

She shook her head in defeat and looked at the floor. "God, I wish we didn't have to do that." She looked at the two detectives with agony on her pretty face. Her throat was starting to close.

She could only imagine how it was going to affect him. Having to relieve every terrifying moment….second…by second….by second…

"_The minute it starts getting personal, you're off this case."_

Casey sighed again in frustration and sadness, blinking rapidly to disguise the water in her eyes.

Fin's face was morose as he pursed his lips. "The captain stayed up there last night," he said softly. "He's going to get his statement and then come back here…said he'll get it to you before the end of the day today."

She saw John's face twist slightly, but the expression was gone before she could focus on him.

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Sighing shakily, she ran a hand through her hair and checked her watch.

She bit her lip, hesitant to break the silence. "I, um," she said awkwardly, clearing her throat. "I need to go home…take care of my kids." Her blue eyes took on a distant, panicked look suddenly. "God…they're so torn up..." Her voice lowered to a tearful whisper and she slammed her eyes closed.

Olivia looked at her sadly, her eyes shining with compassion and sympathy. "Go ahead, Kathy," she whispered. "They need you too."

The blonde swallowed hard. "I…I'm going to-

"Kath…"

Both heads whipped toward the bed in shock when they heard his weak voice. He'd been sleeping for the last half-hour.

He was struggling weakly to sit up but didn't have the energy. A pleading look was on his face as he reached a hand toward her.

Exchanging a quick look with Olivia, she quickly went to his side. The detective saw about a hundred different emotions flashing on her face.

Kathy wrapped her hand in his immediately, reaching with the other to rest on his cheek.

Disorientation clouded his eyes as he struggled to focus on her face. "I love you," he slurred tiredly.

Tears filled her eyes.

He was drugged and had no idea what was going on. There was no way to tell if this was him or the medicine talking.

She smiled warmly as the tears slid from her eyes and leaned her face down to press a kiss to his lips.

"Oh, baby," she whispered lovingly. She stroked his cheek and kissed him again. "I love you too, Elliot…I love you, too."

She wasn't drugged. This was her heart talking.

"I have to go home to the kids," she said softly, looking into his eyes. "I'm coming back, baby. I promise you. I'll be back later today."

His eyes slid closed again as the exhaustion won another war on his body.

Swallowing hard, she gently removed her hand and stepped away from the bed.

Olivia looked at her sympathetically and didn't speak. Kathy wiped her face hastily and avoided her eyes.

"I'll be back later," she said, fumbling for her keys. "Call me if you need me."

She nodded silently.

With one last glance at the bed, Kathy fled from the room.

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Lieutenant Barry looked out of the office window and noticed an officer looking awkwardly around the squad room. The dark blue uniform was unfamiliar to the precinct.

He got to his feet quickly and stepped out of the open door.

Noticing the visitor, Detective Myra Pierce turned from the copy machine and headed for him.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked kindly, smiling slightly.

The man looked relieved and embarrassed. "Um…yes, ma'am," he said awkwardly. "I'm Paul Sands, with the Niagara Crime Scene Unit" He shifted the small box he held in his hands nervously. "I was told I need to speak with someone named…Cragen, I believe?"

"Officer Sands," Lieutenant Barry interceded, startling them. He held out his hand. "Lieutenant Dave Barry, Brooklyn Special Victims Unit….Captain Cragen is unable to be here at the moment. I'm standing in for him." The officer shook his hand somewhat awkwardly.

Sands looked at him uncomfortably. "I'm…I'm not sure if I'm authorized to turn over evidence to you," he said apologetically. "It's nothing personal, Lieutenant….I just-"

Barry waved his hand quickly, smiling warmly to put the man at ease. "I understand," he said. "It's not a problem…come on, let's talk in the office." He gestured to the office with his hand and smiled again.

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"Did you enjoy your stay, sir?" the woman asked kindly.

Don started. The blonde behind the front desk was smiling cheerfully at him.

His hand was still gripping the room key that he had placed on the counter. His eyes shot to it and he jerked his hand back quickly.

_Enjoy my stay? Are you kidding me?_

"Um…" he stammered. He felt sick. "Um…y-yes. Yes, thank you."

She smiled again. "Wonderful," she said.

His nerves were wound so tight that he could feel himself beginning to shake.

_Come on…just give me the damn receipt, lady. Don't drag this on any more than it already is, damn it! _

After a pause that seemed to take an eternity, the woman held out her hand. "That's going to be $53.40, sir."

Don slid his credit card across the counter so fast that it nearly toppled off. He swallowed hard, embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Oh, that's alright," she said brightly. "I'll have your receipt in a moment, sir."

She turned her back to him to process the card. Don ran a hand shakily over his face.

The woman turned back after a minute with a slip of paper and handed it across the counter, along with a pen and his card. He scrawled his signature hastily and pocketed his card.

"Thank you," he said quickly.

He made a beeline for the doors before she could speak again and hurried out into the bright morning sunshine.

Pulling his keys from his back pocket, he unlocked the sedan and slid inside. He attempted to slide them into the ignition and realized that his hands were shaking.

He forcefully shoved the key inside and roared the engine to life. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the handwritten directions for the tenth precinct.

A lump was in his throat as he drove mechanically toward the exit of the parking lot and turned left onto the highway.

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The vibration against her leg startled her and broke her intense concentration on the page in front of her. Folding the page of the novel she had been engrossed in, Olivia reached for the phone, blinking to clear her vision from the small print.

She glanced at the bed as she flipped it open and stood to her feet. "Benson," she said quietly, stepping close to the door.

"Hey," Fin said. "How is he?"

Her heart leaped. "Sleeping," she answered quickly. "How did the proceedings go? Did they get bail?"

Her palms started to sweat. _God, please…please…_

"Remand without bail," he said. "Casey kicked ass this morning…no way in hell they had a chance." The delight in his voice couldn't be masked. "They're back in the cell until the trial."

Relief surged through Olivia's veins. "Thank God," she said. "When is the trial? Have they set a date yet?"

"No," he answered. "Haskins filed for a change of venue and Verella approved. The hearing is tomorrow."

Her face screwed up incredulously. "Are you serious?"

His lip curled in disgust. "You haven't met this scum Haskins," he said bitterly. "He's a certified asshole, down to the letter. This guy isn't giving an inch." He bit his lip. "Listen, Olivia….um, Casey has to have Elliot's statement. She has to."

_Jesus Christ._

She hadn't even given it any thought.

The rape kit was bad enough…this part would only be able to be done by an officer of the law.

Jesus, did they expect _her_ to get it? There was no way in the world she would be able to keep her composure listening to her best friend describe everything they'd done to him…no _way._

"Fin," she said weakly. She swallowed hard, trying to combat the nausea. "I…I can't-"

"No, Liv, no," he interrupted quickly. He paused. "Cragen…Cragen's going to get it. He stayed over last night so that he could come there today."

"Liv…"

The tearful voice made her whip her head around in a second. Her heart hammered. "Fin, I have to go," she said quickly. "I'll call you back later."

"No problem," he said, but she barely heard him as she hung up.

"Yeah, Elliot," she said softly, coming over to him. She smoothed her hand against his cheek tenderly. "It's ok. I'm right here…I'm right here."

He was shaking under her touch. Teary blue eyes looked up into her face and she had to fight tears herself. Each breath came out as a soft gasp.

"So cold," he whispered. He sniffled, his body shuddering violently. "Please…" A sob escaped before he could help it. "Please, Olivia…I'm so cold."

Olivia was bewildered. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, the hospital actually bordered on being too warm for comfort. He already had Kathy's quilt and two other blankets along with a sheet wrapping his body. But now was not the time for debate.

"Ok, honey," she said. She pressed the call button swiftly with one hand. "Shh….it's ok. I'll get you some more blankets." Her other hand soothingly stroked his face. He seemed to enjoy the touch, as his eyes would close and he would inhale each time she made her way up.

"Yes, Mr. Stabler?"

The female nurse was not one that either of them had seen before, so she guessed it was somewhere near a shift change. Keeping her position, Olivia turned her head towards the nurse.

"Could you bring a few more blankets, please?" she asked.

She caught the slight confusion that passed over the woman's face. The nurse was wearing short-sleeved scrubs and Olivia knew her thoughts were the same as the ones she herself had.

But the woman was a dignified professional and for that Olivia was grateful. She didn't miss a beat as she nodded matter-of-factly.

"Of course," she said kindly. She cocked her head toward Elliot for a minute and asked, her voice gentle, "Would you like me to turn the heat up in here for you?"

Elliot nodded. "Yes…please," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

The woman smiled warmly at them. "I'll be just a moment."

"Thank you," Olivia said, summoning up a grateful smile.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She didn't get it. It just….didn't make any sense.

Six years she had been performing rape exams for this squad. Six years. She had seen so many different kinds of sexual side effects, diseases, and wounds by now that she could write her own damn encyclopedia.

But never once…._once_…had Melinda received a lab report that went into as much detail as this one did. She knew the labs were efficient…but revealing who a gun was _registered_ to, for Christ's sake?

"Gary," she said, without taking her eyes from the document that had become her own personal thorn. "Who was the lab tech for this one?"

The young man was silent as he continued to lift out the stomach of the man lying on the slab. Heaving a relieved breath once he cleared the metal tray, Gary turned toward her.

"What's the number?" he asked.

Melinda flipped to the first page. "1094," she recited.

He wrote it on his notepad. "Let me get this guy finished," he said, gesturing. "And I'll check."

She nodded distractedly, continuing to scan the document with sharp eyes.

"Doctor Warner…"

Surprised, she turned around to face Angela Barnes, a lab assistant on the second floor whom she had worked with many times in her career. The petite brunette grimaced apologetically, knowing how the medical examiner loathed being interrupted in the lab.

"I apologize for interrupting," she said. She gestured into the hallway behind her. "You've got a phone call at the desk."

With a sigh, Melinda closed the document and placed in on the counter. She smiled as best she could when she turned around, sensing the young woman's unease.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Thank you."

She followed her out of the lab.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey."

She turned from the computer and whirled around silently to face the doorway.

"I'm going to the store," Maureen said, leaning against the doorframe.

She gazed around her sister's room and saw that it had been redecorated again since the last time she had been home. Well….rearranged, at least.

"Any special requests for dinner?" she continued, bringing her eyes back.

Kathleen scowled at her angrily. "I thought Mom was coming home tonight," she said coldly.

Seeing the claws out, the older girl instinctively raised her own guard. "I don't think she's going to be in the mood to cook anything, Kathleen," she said harshly, scowling back. She rolled her eyes, tired of the dance. "Do you want anything or not?"

The younger girl shook her head curtly and turned back to the screen again.

Huffing angrily, Maureen disappeared down the hall. Her footsteps clomped loudly down the stairs and Kathleen heard the distinct jangling of keys before the noise disappeared behind a slamming front door.

Pulling up the browser she had minimized, she clicked through the photo album images once more.

She recognized the wine-red gown she was wearing as the one she'd worn to the Junior Jamboree last February. Judging from the look of barely-controlled annoyance in her smile, she remembered that his apartment had been the last stop in a series of long, torturous photo sessions with her date and friends.

His arms were wrapped around her shoulders from the side, his smile so big that it made him look like a different person. It had been a long time since she had seen her father smile like that.

Her chest felt like it was going to explode as she rose from the chair and crossed to the door. Even though she knew she was alone in the house, she closed and locked it before going to her closet.

The soft corduroy was permeated with the scent of his cologne, and she inhaled it deeply as she wrapped it around herself. The plaid bathrobe swallowed her even with the belt tightened.

"Oh, Dad," she sobbed. She pulled the material to her face and inhaled again, weeping. "Dad."

It was the only tangible part of him she'd had for the past month. She slept in it every night because she was afraid she would forget what he smelled like.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The soft knock on the door caught her attention. Looking up, she saw the same nurse from earlier standing in the doorway.

"Pardon me," she said hesitantly.

Olivia set the book aside and stretched, her back stiff from sitting for so long. "No, not at all," she said. "Come in, please."

"We're making lunch rounds," the woman said quietly. She glanced at the bed. "I know he won't be able to…"

Her gaze followed and she felt a lump rise in her throat of its own accord.

Wrapped snugly in a cloud of thick wool blankets, appearing almost swallowed except for the cast and tangle of IV wires trailing from the other forearm, he slept with his face buried in the side of the pillow. The heavy breathing pattern told of deep slumber that kept assaulting him without warning.

"…would you like anything?"

The woman's voice cut through the fog in her brain.

"Oh, uh…no," she said quickly, shaking her head. She brought her eyes back to focus on the sympathetic gaze of the nurse in front of her. "I'm fine. Thank you."

The nurse nodded. "Alright," she said softly. "Sorry to disturb you." She stepped out and pulled the door shut again.

Thick silence resumed once again.

She went over to the bedside and stared down into his slack face.

The dark rings around his eyes were prominent now and starting to turn green at the edges. His face was pale, a stark contrast to the usual bright vibrancy that she was familiar with, and so thin….she could see his cheekbones even when his muscles were totally relaxed.

He had lost so much weight…the charts indicated he was at 150 pounds when he was brought in. She knew for a fact that his six-foot frame normally carried almost double that amount.

"_Is he full, Fin? Did they give him dinner?"_

Her eyes filled with tears and the pain was so sudden that it made her fight for breath.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her phone rang just as she was stepping out of the office. Huffing in exasperation, she turned back and went to her desk.

"Casey Novak," she said, snatching up the phone.

"Ms. Novak," a male voice said. "This is Lieutenant Dave Barry. I'm sorry to bother you, but…"

"That's alright, Lieutenant," she said impatiently, biting her lip as she looked at the clock on the wall. She had fifteen minutes to get to the meeting. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I have an officer here from the Niagara Crime Scene Unit," he said. "He's got evidence collected from the residence where the men were arrested."

Her heart jumped in her chest.

"He's only authorized to speak to Cragen about it though," he continued, trailing off uncomfortably. "So…."

"Have him drop it off at the clerk's desk," she cut in authoritatively. "I'll come by and get it after my meeting."

"Yes, ma'am," Barry said.

"Don't let anybody else touch it," she warned.

"No, ma'am," he agreed. "Don't worry."

"I'm terribly sorry," she said hurriedly. "But I'm late. Is that all?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "Sorry, Ms. Novak. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Barry," she said. "I appreciate this more than I can tell you, really. I'll see you a little later."

She dropped the phone back into the cradle, gathered up her files and briefcase again, and made a beeline for the elevator so fast that her heels almost made scuff marks.

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John peered around the corner and spoke to the detective sitting on duty in the lockup.

"Yo, Jake," he called. "Your relief is on the way."

The middle-aged man rolled his eyes empathetically and stood at once. "Thank God," he said sardonically. He looked up to the top of the stairwell at the other man, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You know how long it's been since I've had to play baby-sitter?"

Munch smirked. "Whatever, man," he said. "You know you'll be having grandkids one of these days."

Detective Kessler scoffed playfully, knowing that his friend was trying to pull his chain. "Bite your tongue," he deadpanned. "Andrea's not dating until she's fifty."

"Hey," a voice cut through the bars suddenly. "Hey, hold up, man….I remember you."

Ignoring the voice, John sarcastically responded, "Be careful what you wish for. My third wife didn't think fifty was too old to date…she seemed to enjoy it more than she did being married."

Kessler grimaced sympathetically. "Ouch," he said.

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he repeated harshly. "Ouch."

Detective Briscoe appeared from behind him. "Time's up, Jake," the younger man said as he passed John to head down the stairs. "I drew the short straw…lucky me."

Kessler smiled and smacked his newspaper into the younger man's chest as he passed. "Have fun," he said sarcastically.

"Hey!" the voice called out, louder this time. "Yeah, I know you. You're the one that was with Elliot that day in the lockup in the Bronx."

John froze halfway through the door and turned around slowly.

Detective Kessler was coming up the stairs and stopped, startled. He had never seen a look of fury like that on John Munch's face before.

He could feel his pulse racing as he slowly descended the concrete steps. Jason Evans stood directly in front of the iron bars and eyed him mischievously as their gazes locked.

John could feel the rage bubbling up with each step and willed himself not to give the man the satisfaction of showing it. He kept his face stony, but his eyes were narrowed dangerously as he stepped up to the bars.

Cop and convict stared coldly at one another, neither giving an inch.

Munch's jaw tightened. "What did you just say to me?" he asked, his soft voice coming out like a growl.

Evans smirked maliciously. "I know you heard me, _Munch_," he said, emphasizing his name gleefully just to rub in that he did know him. His dark eyes were piercing and completely emotionless.

"God, I love cops," he scoffed in amusement. "You're all the same, you know that? High and mighty with a badge…you guys can't do shit and you know it. But you just love to put on a show. All of you…"

His grin narrowed knowingly as he measured his next words. "Just a bunch of…_divas_, aren't you?" The glee in his eyes got brighter when he saw John's reaction and he continued tauntingly. "That right, Detective Munch? Are you a _diva_ like Elliot?"

Rage exploded behind John's eyes and he was lunging forward to grip the man by the front of his shirt before he even became aware of it. The pain of the raw wound behind the memory began to throb like a sudden mutilation.

"You fucking piece of shit," he spat out. He was so riled that spit was foaming in the corner of his mouth along his clenched teeth. His hands shook with fury and he could barely get words out. "You'd…better be thanking fucking _Jesus_…that you and I are separated by these bars."

Evans glanced at his cellmates and chuckled, seeming not affected at all by the man's vice grip on him. "No, Detective," he said coldly, looking at John menacingly. "_You _are the one who should be thankful." His eyes glinted again. "Be thankful your cherry ass wasn't popped too, fucker."

A vein was protruding out of John's long neck and he felt himself shaking. The next thing he knew, his gun was sandwiched between the bars and resting on the forehead of the man before him.

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"Hello?"

Maureen turned her head from the small television on the kitchen counter. "In the kitchen!" she called out.

Kathy shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the coat tree as she passed it. The sight of her oldest daughter standing by the stove with her sleeves rolled up, elbow-deep in meatloaf mix, and watching Oprah made her heart ache with wistfulness and pride.

She went to her and startled her when she wrapped her arms around her tightly and pulled her into an embrace. The young woman held her messy hands away from her so that it wouldn't get on her mom's clothes and leaned into the hug welcomingly.

Her blue eyes sparkled when she pulled back; so much like her father's that it made Kathy smile. She stroked her daughter's chin length blonde hair, recalling how sophisticated it looked on her compared to the long hair she'd had as a teenager.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," she said. "Were you able to get to class okay?"

Maureen waved off the apology. "Yeah," she said dismissively. "The campus is like a ghost town anyway….most people have already taken their finals and gone home."

God, she had completely forgotten that her daughter's semester was almost over. Even more guilt flooded her.

"Do you have any more finals?" she asked.

"One tomorrow morning," Maureen answered. "I figure I'll go back after dinner and get packed, that way after the test I can just lock up and leave."

"What's Becky doing for Christmas?" Kathy inquired, referring to her daughter's roommate. "I told you she was welcome over here during break, right?"

She nodded. "She went up to New Hampshire to spend Christmas with her boyfriend," she said. "She left yesterday afternoon." Her face split into a mischievous grin. "So I'll get to enjoy a bachelorette pad for one night of my life, at least."

Kathy narrowed her eyes playfully. "Don't rush it," she said. "With the place come the bills, my dear."

She smirked and turned back to mashing the hamburger meat. Kathy watched her for a minute. "I didn't know we had hamburger meat."

"We don't," her daughter retorted while looking at the TV again. "I went to the grocery store. The thought of eating out again made me feel a little sick."

She grimaced guiltily. "I'm sorry, Mo," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry you guys have been having to fend for yourselves lately…I'm going to be here more often now, I promise.

Maureen turned around and stared her mother right in the eyes. Her hands stilled.

"Mom," she said seriously. "The only thing that matters is having Daddy back. You told me that yourself." Her eyes softened. "Don't worry about us. We can survive just fine."

Kathy swallowed hard. "Yeah…yeah, I can see that," she said thickly, gesturing to the bowl of hamburger. She blinked back tears quickly and made to lighten the mood. "Since you're such a grown-up now, maybe I should make you pay rent to stay here during break."

Her daughter smirked again and cut her eyes playfully. "Ha," she scoffed sarcastically. "Fat chance."

Chuckling, she shook her head. "I'm going to go take a shower," she said. "I'll come give you a hand when I'm done."

Maureen waved her off, turning toward the television once more. "I've got it taken care of," she said. "We can eat whenever you're ready…this will only take about a half-hour to cook."

Weariness ambushed her as she climbed the stairs and Kathy could suddenly feel each of her forty-one years.

She ducked into the bathroom to start a hot spray and walked toward the linen closet. As she passed the closed door of Kathleen's room, she was startled to hear the pulsating of rock music.

Wincing, she went to the door and knocked. "Kat?" she said hesitantly. The music was even louder against the door and she winced again. "Kathleen?" She knocked once more.

After a minute's hesitation, Kathy gripped the doorknob and began easing the door open slowly. The unintelligible screams coming from the speakers on her daughter's dresser were repulsive.

Her eyes rested on her daughter, sitting Indian-style at the foot of her bed, facing away from her. She was wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt, hair from her messy bun falling into her face as she bent over the small notebook she was busy writing in.

Kathy crossed quickly to the side of the room and turned off the stereo. Her ears began ringing the second it became quiet.

Kathleen whipped around in shock to meet the appalled stare of her mother.

"What in the world is wrong with you?" she asked. "Did you suddenly become deaf?"

The murderous glare that her daughter fixed on her surprised and crushed her. "Don't you know how to knock?" she snapped.

"I did," she retorted angrily. "Several times." Her face was concerned as she approached her daughter's bed. "Why didn't you go to practice, Kat?"

"God, am I not allowed to take a _break_?" she seethed in exasperation, shaking her head. "Why is it such a big deal? Everyone acts like I'm committing a freaking felony just because I wanted to take a personal day!"

Kathy sat down gingerly a few feet away from her. "No one's making a big deal, Kat," she said gently, trying to look into her eyes. "It's just not like you to skip out, that's all. Especially not the team."

The girl didn't respond to her. Her eyebrows hunched angrily over her eyes as she kept her head bent, continuing to scribble furiously in the notebook.

She glanced at the notebook but couldn't make out any words. A weary sigh escaped her lips. "Sweetheart," she said, shaking her head tiredly. "Honey, no one blames you for being upset. You're allowed to be angry. I know how much this hurts."

"How in the world would you know, Mom?" Kathleen said, her head snapping up suddenly. Her face was pained and incredulous. "You've never had your father ripped away from you!" Her voice wavered. "Have you ever had to go to sleep wondering if you would ever get the chance to tell your father that you loved him again?"

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "You don't know how that feels, Mom," she said. "You can never know how that feels."

Kathy swallowed, freed tears making their way down her face.

"You're right, Kathleen," she said. "I haven't had to go through what you kids have had to." Her face was pained. "You think I wasn't dying inside? Do you think I didn't lay awake at night waiting for that phone call telling me they found his body?" A sob clipped the end of her sentence and she bit her lip to swallow the rest of her words.

"You're the one who left," she said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "You had a choice. We didn't have that luxury."

She was horrified and frightened when her mother broke down sobbing at her words. She swallowed hard, not knowing what to do or say.

"I'm sorry," Kathy whispered painfully. "I know it's my fault. I hurt you and I hurt your dad….and I'm….so, so…sorry." She shook her head, her voice more broken that Kathleen had ever thought possible.

Her own tears were dripping onto the pages, blurring the ink. "I miss him so much," she croaked. "I'm so scared, Mom." She looked at her and Kathy saw a ten-year old child looking out through her eyes. "I'm so scared."

She began sobbing and suddenly launched herself into Kathy's lap, burying her face into her neck like she was a toddler.

Breaking down again, her mother's body shook as she pressed her face against hers. "I am, too, baby," she whispered painfully, sobbing. "I am, too."

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Olivia eyed Doctor Beck anxiously as he injected several needles into her sleeping partner's IV. He caught her look.

"Another round of painkillers," he explained. "We're going to be checking his wounds again in about a half-hour."

She nodded shakily.

"Has he been coherent at all today?" he asked her, checking over the chart.

She grimaced. "Not really," she said in defeat. "The few times he was awake he seemed panicked."

Doctor Beck nodded. "It's nothing unusual," he said reassuringly. "And, given the state he's in, not surprising either." He looked at her compassionately, seeing her distraught expression. "Give it time. He's got a lot of healing to do."

"_Casey has to have his statement."_

"_He was raped with your gun."_

"_You haven't met this guy Haskins…he's not giving an inch."_

"_I won't let anybody hurt you, honey."_

She felt nausea rising in her throat. He had no idea.

"Yes," she managed to choke out. "Yes…he does."


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Please keep reviewing. This is getting a little difficult because I am so anxious to start the emotional scenes and it kills me to have to go through the other parts first! The next few chapters are going to begin a slow journey into dicier territory and I hope you will be inclined to wait for it.**

**Remember back when I mentioned having researched a great deal for this? Keep that in mind as you read.**

"Back off," John warned menacingly, eyeing the two detectives as they began advancing down the stairs. He tightened his jaw and sneered at Jason Evans. "This doesn't concern either of you."

"John," Detective Kessler said evenly. He held his arms out non-threateningly and began inching back down the stairs. Briscoe looked at him anxiously. "Cool off, man. Come on…just get your head together."

"Get back, Kessler," he growled quietly. "I mean it."

Evans stood motionless with his hands at his sides, smirking coldly. His steely gaze was fixed on the detective. The others in the cell with him stood behind him but none of them moved.

"What? You going to SHOOT ME?" he goaded. "Do it, cockface!" He spread his arms. "GO ON! SHOOT ME!"

"John," Kessler said again, stepping off of the last stair.

"DO IT!" Evans screamed. He remained still, smirking. "You don't have the balls."

The gun in his hand was cocked before he even thought about it and pressing harder against the man's flesh. The muscles in his right hand were so tight that he could feel them pressing against each other.

"Blink, mother fucker," he hissed. "Twitch…give me a reason, you worthless piece of shit. Just _give_ me a reason."

"Go ahead," Evans continued. "Go ahead and kill me right now…it don't mean dick to me." His eyes narrowed and what looked like pure evil gleaming in them at that moment.

"I already got what I wanted."

A sick grin spread over his face and he trailed his leg down his pants to cup between his legs. His smirk got bigger and he began rubbing himself, his eyes never leaving John's face.

"Mmm," he grunted, nodding. "It's been a long couple of years. I made up for _plenty_ of lost time." His eyes sparkled. "No wonder the man's got so many kids."

Kessler threw himself at Munch, seeing his finger releasing the trigger.

"JOHN!" he yelled, wrenching his hand over Munch's hand and yanking it toward the ground. "Let go of the gun, man. Let go of the gun **now**." He grunted as the older detective's strength began overpowering his. "It's not worth it, John. Listen to me! It's not worth it!"

Evans was laughing hysterically, the other men in the cell joining him.

"I'm going to kill you!" Munch bellowed, jerking his gun arm back up. His eyes were flashing with hatred. "Your brains are going to be splattered on my shoes, you god damned **fucking bastard**!"

Detective Briscoe's voice was next to him suddenly and getting his other arm into a vice. Both of the other detective's yells mixed with the enraged screams that he found himself powerless to control.

In the middle of the frenzy, Evans kept goading him without hesitating. "Do it!" he yelled, striding to the bars. "Come on, pussy!" His hands wrapped around the bars and shook wildly. "You don't have the balls, cum face! YOU DON'T HAVE THE BALLS!"

"**JOHN!" **

Fin sprinted down the stairs and leapt into the flurry of flailing bodies. "Knock it off, John!" he yelled furiously, barreling his weight smack into his partner's chest. He reached around to the arm that Kessler was fighting to keep still and smacked the gun to the ground. God damn it...**knock it off**!**"**

The wind exploded from John's midsection and he sagged, forced to surrender. The grips fell away when he stopped resisting and he staggered backwards, out of their reach.

Fin moved with him, refusing to give him an inch of space. "I mean it," he spat out, holding his partner roughly by the arms. "I got no problem popping you one. Just try me."

John shoved his partner hard, knocking him off-balance and forcing him back a few steps. He could hardly see around the white spots swimming in his vision. Snarling with each breath, he clambered up the stairs and disappeared out of sight.

Fin picked up his partner's gun and emptied the chamber in one swift move as he rushed up after him.

Detective Briscoe jumped violently, his heart nearly coming out of his throat at the gun blast inches from his ears. The yells and hollers from the riled group in the cell stopped abruptly. Turning slightly, he saw a cloud of white smoke floating around beside him.

Detective Kessler lowered his smoking gun with a glare. One of the men looked to the floor and saw the bullet hole, inches from his feet.

"The next one won't miss," Kessler snapped. "Shut the fuck up."

He ignored the shocked stare from the other detective and holstered his gun, never taking his eyes from the cell. The men were looking at him in amusement, but none of them said a word.

"You stay here," he ordered to Briscoe as he turned around.

He went up the stairs without looking back.

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Grunting, she managed to squeeze one more plate into the stuffed rack of the dishwasher and slammed the door shut. She looked across the kitchen and eyed her daughter suspiciously as she set the dial.

"Have you been taking cooking classes?" she asked

Maureen glanced up as she rearranged the centerpiece back on the table and gave her mom a defensive look. "Hey," she said. "I can cook."

Kathy scoffed playfully. "Maureen Stabler," she said, raising an eyebrow in patented know-everything-mother fashion. The dishwasher began its rinse. "I still have that bake pan you scorched that time you made cupcakes for Dickie's class a couple of years ago."

She looked at her triumphantly. "I've never seen you make anything that doesn't require water and a microwave."

She felt a blush rise up her neck. "So I need a little practice," she mumbled, scowling. She scowled defiantly. "This turned out alright, didn't it?"

"Delicious," Kathy said without hesitation. She walked over to the table. "Which is why I want to know how you managed to do it without ever stepping foot in a kitchen before this."

Her answering grin was sheepish. "A lot of praying and a little luck."

Her mother raised both eyebrows. "Well…I'd say you got it," she said with a smirk. Turning toward the staircase, she went to the bottom and shouted, "Dickie! Trash, now please!"

"Aw, mom!" came the boy's protesting whine.

"Now means **now**, mister!" she replied sharply.

Maureen grinned at the sound of grumbling that floated into the kitchen as her brother stomped down the stairs. She stood up and went over to the couch to gather her books.

"You're leaving?" Kathy asked in dismay.

She came into the living room and flipped on the light switch. Immediately, the brightly-decorated tree in the corner lit up cheerily. A few more switches were flipped to illuminate the rest of the small winter wonderland that her mother always loved to adorn the house with at Christmas.

Emotion rose in the girl's chest and she took a deep breath before turning around to face her mother.

"Yeah," she said matter-of-factly, sliding the book bag over one shoulder. "It's getting late and I should study."

Elizabeth came down the stairs and caught the tail end of her sister's sentence. "**Should** study," she said, smirking. Her eyes glowed as she grinned at Maureen. "Ten bucks says she'll end up watching _Grey's Anatomy _instead."

Maureen laughed out loud in surprise. "Too dangerous to bet, kid," she said, grinning at her knowingly as she came around the back of the couch.

"You'll be home tomorrow?" Kathy asked as she encased her into a hug.

She nodded. "Sometime," she said. She was surprised when her mother held on.

Tucking her face down into her daughter's temple, she whispered quietly so that she could hear. "I'm so proud of you," she said. "You're amazing…I'm so proud of you."

Blushing slightly, she finally managed to get free and stood straight. She looked her mother in the eyes and grinned softly. "Thanks," she said gently. "I had a great example."

They locked eyes for a moment, hundreds of unsaid words and emotions floating between them.

"Bye, Maur," Elizabeth jumped in, tugging her arm. "It was fun with you here...we should do a girls night."

She turned toward her youngest sister and pulled her into a fierce hug that surprised them both. "Count on it," she promised. "Sometime during break we definitely will."

Her sister's delighted smile warmed her heart. She tweaked her nose like she had always done when she was younger. "See ya, later, Liz."

"Liz, go close the shutters for me," Kathy said as the younger girl stepped aside.

She rolled her eyes but dutifully headed for the living room.

"Bye, Dickie," Maureen said as he came in from the garage. "Good luck with your exams this week."

"Thanks," he said begrudgingly, looking pained at the mere mention of the word. She laughed.

Kathy followed her to the door. "Bye, Mom," she said, pulling on her ski jacket. She removed her hat and gloves from the pocket and began putting them on. "I love you."

"Love you too," her mother replied. She smiled. "Stay warm."

Maureen grinned. "I'll try," she replied. Stepping toward the staircase, she yelled up. "Bye, Kat!"

She waited for a reply. There was none. After a minute, she frowned and shook her head.

"Drive safe," Kathy called, standing at the glass door.

She watched her daughter get inside the Jeep and start it. After a minute, the headlights came on and she backed out of the driveway. The horn beeped as she headed out of sight.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her legs jiggled madly under the table. She tapped the pen insistently against the wooden table top.

God, she wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to make it.

"…so that should account for about half of the caseload for most of you…"

_Shut up, shut up…_she pleaded silently. _Please dismiss…please…_

"But I won't keep you any longer than I need to," District Attorney Arthur Branch said. "We'll discuss that later." He stood up. "Thank you all for coming."

Casey bolted out of her chair and ducked out the door. She walked as fast as she could toward the restroom while still trying to appear composed.

Once inside the door, she threw her briefcase down and raced into the nearest stall.

She'd had to pee the minute the meeting started, but once Branch began to speak it was too late to get up. She was surprised her eyeballs weren't yellow.

She emerged from the restroom a couple minutes later and began making her way to her office. Around her, people were bundled up in heavy coats as they headed for the doors.

"See you tomorrow, Casey," ADA Will Preston called out as he passed her.

Casey smiled at him. "Yep," she said. "Have a good night."

Bypassing more people she knew on the way, she finally made it back to her office and unlocked the door. She put her briefcase down with a sigh and looked up at the clock.

Shit.

She was supposed pick up the evidence after the meeting. She hoped the clerk was still there.

Her stomach growled unhappily as she came around her desk again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Looking over her shoulder swiftly, she merged onto the interstate. Once she reached 70 miles an hour, she let up pressure on the gas.

"_Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling, too,_

_Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you._

_Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we…"_

Smiling, she turned up the volume. Her all-time favorite song.

About two miles ahead, the green sign glowed in the headlights.

**New York University**

**Next Right**

Maureen passed the exit and kept going along the interstate.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He stopped just inside the open doorway and froze. Panic and fear held him immobile as he looked into the room.

Olivia was sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, one leg trailing over the railing. Elliot's hand was writhing in hers as he squirmed restlessly and moaned.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she soothed. "Shh…it's okay, Elliot." She stroked his clammy forehead. "I've got you. Everything's just fine."

Don could have sworn that he didn't make a sound as he entered the room. Yet the moment his foot crossed the threshold, her head was whipping toward the door at lightening speed.

A look crossing between panic and despair etched on her face. "Hi, Cap," she said quietly.

"What's going on?" he asked worriedly. "Is he alright?"

She bit her lip, her eyes sliding closed for a moment. "It's the narcotics in his system," she said, sounding exhausted. "The doctor said he's most likely going to be like this for the next couple of days until his body gets used to the dosage."

Elliot whimpered hysterically, almost cutting her sentence off. He arched slightly, his body just barely moving, and tossed his head against the pillow.

She shook her head again and he saw tears swimming in her eyes.

"He's still out of it, huh?"

A sympathetic male voice behind him startled Cragen so much that he jumped. He moved aside quickly as a doctor and a nurse strode through the doorway.

Olivia stilled his hand long enough to twist hers into a position more favorable for circulation. "No change," she said desperately. "He hasn't relaxed at all."

"Three CC's," one of the nurses said as she injected a needle into the IV.

Doctor Beck nodded to the woman. "She's giving another sedative," he said to Olivia. He looked at her compassionately, his eyes glancing to the visitor in the room for a brief moment. "I know it's tough, but all we can do is wait for the medicine to wear him out. It shouldn't be too much longer."

Her face was twisted painfully as she looked at him. "You're sure he isn't in pain?" she asked desperately. She reached out again and brushed over his forehead. "Are you positive?"

The doctor pursed his lips sympathetically. "He's not consciously aware of anything with those drugs," he said gently. "I'll check his monitors again, but I can pretty much guarantee you that he can't feel a single thing." His face softened. "Trust the medicine, Ms. Benson. I promise it works."

Fingering the tape recorder in his pocket, Don quietly slipped back out of the room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"John," Fin called out as he half-ran to catch up with him. "John, hold on."

Munch continued stalking down the hall, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. He didn't slow at all.

"What the hell was that?" Fin said, enraged, as he burst into the squad room just after his partner. Their loud entrance startled the other detectives, who stopped and gaped at them. "You're going vigilante on us now?"

"Stay out of this, Fin," John growled menacingly, his back to him as he gathered papers off of his desk. "Don't make me say it again."

Fin's face hardened. "No," he snapped angrily. With one swift move, he reached out and wrenched his partner's arm into a tight grip, causing the papers to fall to the floor in a messy heap. "Damn it, I'm sick of this-"

"Mother **fucker**!" Munch bellowed, whirling around the minute Fin grabbed him.

With amazing speed, he grabbed his partner by the lapels of his shirt and shoved him roughly backward. Not expecting it, Fin crashed noisily against the desk beside him and nearly slid to the floor.

"Leave it alone!" he yelled, his eyes flashing. "It doesn't concern you!"

Fin was back on his feet in seconds and charging toward his partner once more. "The hell it doesn't!" he screamed edgily.

The squad room was deathly silent as twenty-five detectives all watched in awe. In all of their six years partnered together, no one had ever seen Munch and Fin come to blows.

"We're all hurting over this, John," he said bitterly. "But it doesn't give you a right to fucking kill someone!"

Munch scoffed snidely. "No one's going to miss that bastard."

Fin shook his head in disbelief and threw his hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender, his eyes glaring at Munch with an anger the other man had never seen before.

"That's great, man," he said in defeat. "You finally got what you wanted. No more excuses, no more hiding behind work…once IAB gets your ass, you'll be free to shut yourself completely away."

He shook his head again. "If that's what it takes for you to sleep at night…" He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I suppose I never really knew you in the first place."

Fin waited a few seconds. John glared angrily past him and refused to meet his eyes. He didn't say anything at all.

He scoffed. "Fuck this," he said angrily. "I'm done with you, John." He turned on his heel and walked toward the doors again.

"Tell me you don't want to do the same thing!" Munch yelled out. His partner hesitated slightly and it gave him more fuel. "Look me right in the god damned eyes and tell me you don't want to do the exact **same thing**!"

Fin stood still, his hands clenched at his sides. But instead of turning back around, he kept walking out of the squad room.

Scoffing angrily, John turned back toward his desk. "That's what I thought," he muttered under his breath.

His hands trembled as he slammed drawers open and shut, searching madly for nothing. He struggled to control his breathing.

"Just hypocrites," he muttered again. "All of them…nothing but a bunch of hypocrites."

Jerking his head up quickly, he glared at the detectives around him. "What the fuck are you all looking at?" he growled, slamming the drawer shut one last time and snatching up his keys.

Silence was his answer as he stalked to the coat rack. He ripped his trench coat off violently, making the small rack teeter on its legs, and stormed out of the squad room.

His vision was so blurry that he couldn't see where he was going.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"God damn it," Casey swore, stopping at the end of the hall.

The clerk's desk was empty, the lights off in the office. The clock on the pillar by the stairs was lit up brightly in the dimness, the hands prominently displaying 8:05. She'd missed the clerk by five minutes.

She cursed again and walked back toward the elevator. It was going to be fun explaining this one to her boss.

The hallway was dark, with only a handful of lights still on in offices other than hers. For such a thriving law practice, it was amazing how quickly the floor emptied out at the end of the day.

She unlocked the door with a sigh and closed it behind her. Her cell phone was lying on the desk and right away saw the light on the side flashing. Setting her keys down on the polished oak surface, she picked up the phone and flipped it open.

Pressing the voice mail button, she waited for the prompt and entered her password. After a minute, the automated voice was in her ear.

"You have….one….new voice message."

Pause… pause. Clenching her teeth, she tapped her foot impatiently. Stupid cell phones.

"Yeah…um, Casey, this is Don Cragen…"

She furrowed her brow in surprise and listened more intently.

"Listen, uh….I'm sorry, but I can't get his statement."

Her eyebrows shot up in alarm, her pulse quickening. She kept listening. After a minute, she heard a click.

He had hung up.

_WHAT? _

Her mind screamed frantically as she hastily looked up the number to dial it back.

_He can't get his statement? **Why** can't he get his statement? Did something happen? Is Elliot in danger? Was it just too painful for Don to go through with it? _

_How could he just hang up?_

One ring. Two rings.

Three rings. Four rings…

Voice mail.

"Don, it's Casey," she prattled, almost the second she heard the beep. "Call me as soon as you get this message….it's urgent."

Her panic was evident and she knew that it would show in her voice.

_Jesus, this isn't good. This isn't good at all._

The change of venue motion had completely thrown her off-kilter. She had been caught unprepared and without defense….she'd never expected Haskins to pull out such a wild card.

In hindsight, that was definitely one of her biggest mistakes.

She was still relatively confident that she could work Judge Verella in her favor, considering the scum she was going up against and the fact that the detective was in such critical condition. In fact, moving the trial closer to where the offense took place would actually make it easier since the hospital wasn't far from it.

Her biggest concern was still the grand jury trial.

She still hadn't seen anything from a rape kit…and legally, the window of time for administering a PERK was up to 96 hours after the attack. Without Elliot's statement, no one had any idea exactly when the initial attack took place. So as it was, they were at a disadvantage because a SANE in this situation would have to use the time of admittance as a starting point.

So for all she knew, the procedure wasn't even going to be administered for three more days, let alone getting someone to put enough of a rush on the results.

Without a statement, all she had was witness testimony to prove a kidnapping. Olivia could testify as to when he was taken, and a number of cops could testify as to where he was found…but without a verbal complaint from the victim, her hands were tied against getting an assault charge, sexual of otherwise.

And now to top everything off, unless the court clerk was in the office by the time she was scheduled to appear in court the next morning, she had no crime scene evidence to present. If the grand jury decided not to go to trial, she wouldn't be able do a thing about it.

No doubt Branch was going to have her ass anyway for not being able to obtain a statement or rape kit. Telling him about the evidence was going to add another nail into her cross.

Glancing up, she saw that it was now almost twenty after. She would have to call him before he left the office at nine. Informing him just before the hearing tomorrow was out of the question. If her shaky position wasn't already enough to get her kicked off the case, that definitely would be. She had no doubts about that.

She could already feel the migraine pulsating behind her eyelids.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At 9:40, her prayers were finally answered. He fell into an exhausted sleep after almost five hours of agitation and two doses of sedatives.

Olivia sighed gratefully and eased her hand out of his death grip to flex her fingers. She scooted off of the bed and carefully settled the blankets around him, her legs wobbly when she stood.

She walked shakily toward the door, her heart still in her throat. It would take a while until she was able to calm down.

Seeing him in pain was horrible, but at least she had been able to help do something for it. This had absolutely killed her. All she could do was attempt to give him some comfort while the doctors pumped him with drugs to make him relax.

She had to get some fresh air. Even if it was only a breath….after that harrowing stint, she _had_ to have fresh air. No way he'd have the strength to wake up after that. She'd be gone five minutes, at most.

Not seeing Cragen anywhere outside came as no surprise. Walking in on a scene like that one would be terrifying for anyone and the man was no idiot. He wouldn't even try for a statement after that, even if Elliot had come completely out of it. She knew her boss enough to know that for a fact.

She debated calling him as she waited for the elevator, but decided against purely on a selfish whim. She was, quite frankly, absolutely drained. Coherent conversation was just too much of an effort right now and the battery in her phone was almost dead anyway.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Sleep tight, sweetie," she said wearily, hugging her youngest daughter close. She stroked over the braids and smiled weakly. "I'll see you in the morning."

Her daughter tried to smile back and didn't make it. "Tell Dad I love him," she said softly. "And that I miss him."

Kathy swallowed hard. "I will," she managed. Her voice became slightly teary. "I love you, Elizabeth."

She pursed her lips hard to keep her emotions down, an expression Kathy recognized all too well after being married to Elliot for so long. "I love you, too," she replied softly.

Turning, Kathy walked towards her son's room.

"Mom?"

The unexpected call made her turn around and she was surprised to see her daughter in the doorway.

"I want to go see him," she said desperately. Her eyes were shining. "Please….I need to see him."

Kathy took a deep breath and expelled it slowly, trying to keep her tears at bay. "You can," she said, nodding. "I promise." She held her arms out and took her child into her arms again desperately, inhaling tearfully. "I promise."

After kissing her other two children, she went back to her bedroom and opened drawers. She pulled out an extra pair of clothes and underwear for herself and one for Olivia as well. She knew the detective wouldn't be going home any time soon.

A huge yawn ambushed her as she set the clothes on the bed. She reached under the bed and dug out her overnight bag again, placing it slowly on the mattress.

She lifted the underwear and shirts inside. Her eyes flitted to the pillow as she put the jeans inside.

Biting her lip, she put the bag on the floor and climbed up onto the comforter.

She just needed to close her eyes for a minute. One minute and then she'd be fine to drive back.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The dark room was lit up with hazy light from the television, but it felt like afternoon sun to his weary eyes.

Don lay sprawled over top a stiff comforter on a bed that wasn't his and listened to noises he didn't recognize as he gazed up at a ceiling that wasn't home.

His cell phone lay discarded on the bedside table, turned off and silent.

"_Don, it's Casey. Call me as soon as you get this message…it's urgent."_

Sighing restlessly, he slung an arm over his eyes and tried to shut out the insistent buzzing inside his head.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Images flashed by rapidly but he didn't even notice what they were. His hand was like a machine; he just kept flipping channels over and over.

When he realized he was starting on his fourth round, John flicked the television off.

He sat still in the silence for a minute and then hurled the remote as hard as he could. The hard crash as it connected with God-only-knew didn't satisfy him at all.

He had started dreaming about him.

Sometimes the dreams were odd. He'd be driving along downtown Baltimore and see Elliot in the next car, or he'd be sitting down to dinner with his ex-wife and Elliot would walk in from the next room.

But most of the time, they were awful.

Jason Evans holding a gun to Elliot's head and taunting John to stop him before shooting him.

Elliot tied up on the beach with the group of men beating him. John could see his mouth as he screamed, but couldn't hear anything.

He and Elliot yelling and cursing at each other in the middle of the squad room. As Elliot turned away, John took out his gun and shot him in the back.

Getting up from the couch, he went into the kitchen and retrieved a pan. He filled it with water and set in on the stove. A tea bag was removed from the cabinet and set beside him on the counter.

He was so exhausted that he could hardly stand up straight. He leaned tiredly against the stove to watch for boiling.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The dog in the apartment above him began barking.

It had taken him almost an hour and half of tossing before Fin could get comfortable. Once he was finally able to drift off...cue Fido the insomniac.

As if life wasn't unfair enough.

Sighing heavily, he rolled over and sat up. He switched on the light and dropped his head wearily into his hands.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She jumped unexpectedly and lurched forward, gasping. Her feet slammed hard onto the floor.

It only took a second for her to orient herself and remember where she was. Olivia climbed awkwardly out of the chair, her back protesting at once.

"I'm sorry," the nurse whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She wiped her eyes blearily. "That's alright," she replied quietly. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and squinted at the harsh light, trying to read the numbers.

3:16 am.

Olivia sighed tiredly, watching as the woman checked his vitals. Elliot was fast asleep and wasn't roused by the slight disturbance.

Scribbling on the chart quickly, the nurse hurried back toward the door.

"I apologize again, ma'am," she said. She glanced at the chair and her brow furrowed in concern. "Would you like me to bring you a cot?"

She started. "Oh…" she said, flustered. "No-I..." She gestured quickly to the other wall, where the cot was sitting, still folded. "I have one, it's just…" She shrugged sheepishly. "I slept on it last night. I just-"

The woman smiled gently. "Like sleeping on a bed of straw," she said empathetically. Olivia blushed and her smile widened. "I know…there's not much we can do about them, I'm afraid." She winked. "They are, unfortunately, a necessary evil."

Olivia smiled again as the nurse left and turned around toward the bed. She sighed softly and reached out, tentatively touching his forehead.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The alarm blared and she jumped violently.

_No…no…it can't be morning already…_

It seemed like she had just gotten to sleep. Kayla's fever had turned into throwing up sometime around four that morning. Throwing up was never fun, but for a seven-year old…she didn't know who it was worse for, the child or the parent.

Melinda sat up and looked bitterly beside her at her husband, dead to the world. He hadn't stirred the entire time she had been making trips back and forth from her room to her daughter's.

Sighing wearily, she got out of bed and padded across the hall. Opening the door gently, she peeked her head in. Her daughter slept propped up against two pillows. Uncomfortable, but favorable to her stomach.

She closed the door again and went down the hall to the kitchen.

She had been debating on whether or not to call out today since last night. Mike had taken care of Kayla the past three times she had been sick, sacrificing his own job so that she could go in.

But of all the cases for her to miss….

Shaking her head softly, she sighed and reached for the phone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The soft knock awakened her.

Olivia's adrenaline began coursing immediately. The nurses didn't knock.

She glanced back at Elliot for a minute before stepping cautiously to the door and pulling it open just enough to see out.

The sight of her partner's oldest daughter standing in the hallway was a shock.

"Maureen," she said, pulling the door open.

The young woman stepped hesitantly inside, and Olivia was surprised to see she was alone.

"Your mom's not with you?" she asked quietly, glancing at her sleeping partner quickly.

Maureen bit her lip, following Olivia's gaze, and shook her head silently. She looked nervous.

"I…I'm not staying," she stammered. "I have…an exam in an hour…." Her chin was trembling slightly.

Olivia felt horrible for her. She looked ready to break down and appeared not to have slept.

"I just need to…to see him," she continued. "I can only stay a minute, but I just-I have to see him."

She had a bag in her hand and was twisting in unconsciously as she spoke.

Olivia stepped forward and drew her into a warm hug. In truth, she needed the contact.

"Take as long as you need," she said, pulling back. She rubbed the girl's shoulder tenderly, instantly moving for the door. "I'll go get us some breakfast."

A tear had slipped out of her blue eyes. She nodded gratefully.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When Olivia knocked on the door twenty minutes later, holding two bottles of orange juice and a muffin, there was no answer. The hospital was starting to buzz with morning activity and several nurses passed as she stepped back and waited.

She waited a minute more and then gently opened the door.

Maureen was gone.

Pursing her lips sadly, she stepped back in the room and set the items down on the bedside table.

She stepped next to the bed and gazed down on him wistfully.

"Morning, Elliot," she whispered, careful not to wake him.

She stroked his cheek gently and pressed a kiss to his nose. It was then that she noticed what was on the bed beside him.

Tears spilled out of her eyes and she began to cry softly.

Nestled on the pillow next to his head, Maureen had placed a large stuffed rabbit. It was wearing a Santa hat.

**I beg again to please review. Also, I updated my profile page, so please stop by.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

She turned, looking up at the clock again, and bit her lip. Turning back, Casey swept the hallway up and down frantically for the hundredth time.

The hearing was going to begin in ten….nine and a half minutes.

Her heeled-foot was tapping the marble floor with nervous energy as she ducked back to look into the clerk's small office again.

"Come on," she breathed aloud, sweeping the hallway left and right. "For God's sake…"

_Of all the days for her to show up on time…_

At six minutes till, she had no choice but to abandon her post. Her heels clicked spastically as she jogged down toward courtroom number four.

As expected, District Attorney Arthur Branch was not happy with the phone call she'd had to place to him the night before. Immediately after the change of venue hearing, she was expected to report straight to his office and, to quote his stern directions, "be sure to have your calendar free for this morning".

In other words, she was to prepare for an ass-chewing.

Stopping at the doors, Casey paused to smooth out her skirt and shift her briefcase more securely on her shoulder. She brushed small wisps of hair back into her neat ponytail and straightened, taking a deep breath.

She squared her shoulders and was about to push open the doors when her phone rang.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The bustle of the hospital was barely audible inside the closed hospital room.

Olivia bit back the huge sigh that wanted to come out and shifted position in the chair for the hundredth time.

_I really should have brought my book._

She usually wasn't much of a reader, but this particular novel, _Beach House_ by James Patterson, was turning out to be rather addicting. She'd discovered it purely by accident one evening when she was at the Laundromat- a copy of it was lying on one of the chairs near her washer. By the time the owner had come back for it, she had already gotten through two chapters.

Her own copy was quickly obtained, and Olivia found herself devouring it at a surprising rate. It had ended up becoming quite a relaxing way to unwind before bed and she rather enjoyed the way she could get lost in the world of fiction for a change.

She had been in the middle of chapter thirteen the night before they had gotten called to the warehouse.

Her eyes screwed up tightly and her heart began to pound.

_Stop it. Stop it._

Wetness sliding down her cheeks made her eyes fly open again in surprise. Clenching her teeth, she swallowed hard and wiped her face.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Startled awake, she opened her eyes and immediately winced when her face was flooded with sunlight.

Kathy groaned in annoyance, not ready to wake up. She rolled over away from the window and was surprised when her face hit the comforter instead of her pillow.

A second later, she gasped and sat straight up.

"Shit," she breathed, scooting frantically toward the clock. Horror surged through her when she saw that it was quarter to ten. "Shit!"

Picking up the cordless telephone, she punched in ten numbers as she rifled through the duffle bag that still sat on the floor.

Sliding her jeans off, she quickly slipped into a fresh pair of underwear and pulled out the first sweater her hand came in contact with.

"_This is Olivia Benson…I'm not available right now, please leave a message."_

Disconnecting the line, Kathy slid her jeans back on and zipped the duffle. She reached under the bed for her shoes and hung the phone back up. Reaching out to grab the bag, she hurried down the hall toward the stairs.

_Why didn't somebody wake me up?_

The house was quiet, obviously since all of her children were at school. The lights all off and the doors locked, just as she had the twins make sure was done before they left every morning. She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a Nutri-Grain bar from the cabinet.

_Well, of course no one would wake you, idiot. You kissed them goodbye last night. They think you're at the hospital._

Grabbing her keys from the counter, she hurried out the garage door to the car.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

No one spoke to him when he walked into the squad room and Fin didn't know whether or not to take it as a bad sign. All of them had witnessed the incident between him and his partner the day before and he was sure it would only be a matter of time before Cragen became aware of it as well.

John's desk was empty, not surprisingly. He shook his head angrily as he took his coat off. Now more than ever, the squad needed to be working as hard as possible toward getting justice for a victim…and yet it seemed like every day they took another step in the opposite direction.

Maybe he just needed to get back up to the hospital for a while. Maybe a first-hand look at exactly what the point of their job was would get them back on track.

Now if only he could get John to do the same.

"Detective Tutuola."

His head snapped toward the source of the voice. Lieutenant Barry was standing in the doorway of the captain's office, holding the door open. He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and Barry gestured to him.

"Could you step in here, please?" he said, somewhat stiffly.

Fin glanced to the side and realized the other detectives were trying not to make it obvious that they were staring at him.

Setting his face into a defensive scowl, he moved around the side of his desk and walked toward the office.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He blew through his cheeks and stared out the windshield while he waited. Drops of rain were dotting the glass, making the outside appear blurry.

"Hello," a frazzled-sounding voice said quickly.

"Casey," he said. He paused awkwardly, already feeling the flush rising in his face. "Listen…I-I um-"

"Did you get my message?" she asked urgently.

Don slid his eyes closed. "Yes," he said softly. A red truck cruised past him and whipped into a parking spot nearby. He sighed. "Casey, I apologize for this whole-"

"What happened?" she interrupted. The obvious fear in her voice made him feel even worse. "Is Elliot alright, Don? Did something-"

"No," he cut in quickly. "Nothing happened. He's alright…well, not- not _alright_…" His words started to tumble over each other in his nervousness and he stopped, taking a calming breath. "I'm sorry for being so blunt in my message, Casey, and I'm sorry if I caused you to worry."

"Don, talk to me," she demanded, the panic unable to be hidden. "His statement makes or breaks this case. If there is a problem, you need to let me know **now**. I'm walking into the hearing right now…this is our only chance."

He sighed. "I went there last night," he said, his voice sounding weary. "He was delirious…couldn't even sit still." The images popped back in his mind, causing him to shudder. "He's not reacting well to the drugs right now. The doctor said it could be another couple of days before he even becomes lucid, let alone be able to tell us anything."

There was a long pause.

"Casey?" he ventured, when she still didn't speak.

She sighed heavily. "I'll see if I can get the judge to hold the trial," she finally said. Her voice sounded so unconvincing that for the first time the captain became nervous.

"It…it shouldn't be a problem, though…right?" he asked uncertainly. "I mean, he-he's the one the case is centered around…" He let the sentence trail off anxiously.

There was another pause.

"He's the one the case _should_ be centered around," Casey said weakly. Don felt his stomach turn at the grave note in her voice. "But so far, the defense has done a great job of swaying the judge." She hesitated, sounding uncertain. "Don…" She trailed off again.

Her silence was unnerving. "What?" he asked. Nothing. "Casey…what?"

Another heavy sigh filled his ear before she spoke. "There have been a lot of discrepancies involved with the police," she said dreadfully. Her voice was weak. "Haskins has already presented numerous minor details to the judge that make you guys look questionable and….and those little things…" She swallowed hard. "Well…they're adding up, Don."

"What? What kind of discrepancies?" His voice was full of anger. "There are no _discrepancies_, Casey! We've done our job down to the letter!" He scoffed in amazement. "Are you kidding me? After all these bastards have done the judge is questioning _our_ intentions?"

"I didn't say he bought it," Casey was quick to say. "I don't know for sure really what Judge Verella believes as far as due process goes…all I'm saying is that it's being thrown out there and I don't have any proof to counter with."

"What else is there?" Don asked. "We still need a statement from Elliot, yeah…but there's still physical evidence of assault…he's in the Intensive Care Unit, for God's sake!"

"Don…I have absolutely nothing on my end to work with," she said edgily. "I've gotten no rape kit….the evidence collected from the crime scene is still being held by the court clerk, so I haven't even seen what it is yet. For all I know, it may be useless." Anger was strengthening her voice. "I can only do so much here, you know."

His stomach was twisting so violently that he thought he was going to throw up.

_I've been gone two days…what the hell is going on with my squad? _

He swallowed hard. "I…I'm sorry, Casey," he said in utter horror. "I haven't been with the squad for a few days. I wasn't aware of all…." Bile rose in his throat and he had to pause to swallow. "I…I know the kit was done because I spoke to Melinda Warner myself."

He closed his eyes and swallowed again. "I'm heading back to Manhattan," he said, making a decision on a whim. "As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll let you know. I'm sorry."

"I have to go," Casey said suddenly, nearly cutting off his sentence. "I'll call you when the hearing is dismissed."

"Good luck," he said before she could hang up.

Her voice was heavy. "Thanks," she said.

His finger slammed into the button and he was dialing again almost before it became connected. He started the car, his hands trembling with anger.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A small groan brought her head away from where she had it leaned against the back of the chair. Pain shot up the back of her neck and she winced

Getting to her feet, Olivia went to the bedside.

He was lying still, but she could see the rigidness of his body. His face was contorted and he moaned again. The sound tore at her soul.

He turned his face, burrowing it frantically against the pillow. She hesitantly stroked through his hair as he whimpered and continued wrenching around. His face dropped into the soft plush of the stuffed rabbit lying on the pillow.

The sounds abruptly stopped.

Olivia's hand froze next to the call button. She held her breath and waited.

Sniffling wetly, he buried his face further into the soft object and sighed. His body relaxed and his breathing became even.

Tears dripped from her eyes. She brought her head down to rest against the side of his face, her hands continuing to comb across his scalp gently.

She didn't even realize that she was sobbing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Why don't you have a seat?" Lieutenant Barry said, gesturing.

His eyes immediately took in the others crowded into the small office. Besides him and the lieutenant, Detective Kessler, Detective Briscoe, and two men in suits were gathered around the desk.

"I'll stand," Fin said brusquely, realizing right away what was going on.

The two men in suits were IAB agents…and by the looks of it, he and the other detectives were chum for the sharks.

Barry looked at him carefully for a minute and then glanced at the two agents.

A lanky agent with grey hair and cold brown eyes stepped slightly closer to him. Fin looked at him defensively and instinctively straightened.

"Detective Tutuola," he said evenly, his words slow and measured. "Agent Andrew Gilbert, Internal Affairs." He gestured fleetingly to his companion. "Agent Sam Black." He got right to the point without missing a beat. "Your partner is Detective Munch, correct?"

He stared squarely at the other man, one eyebrow cocking slightly.

"Yes," he answered.

"I understand you were present along with these detectives," he gestured to Briscoe and Kessler, "during an incident yesterday afternoon involving your partner and a man currently in your custody."

Fin said nothing.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, the impatience obvious. "Is that correct, Detective?" he asked.

"No," he clipped shortly.

The agent raised his eyebrows and Fin stared right back.

"No?" Agent Black chimed in suddenly, stepping away from the wall. He exchanged glances with Gilbert and looked over at the two seated detectives. "Detective Kessler, did you not name Detective Tutuola as a witness as well as yourself and Detective Briscoe?"

Fin shot a glare towards Kessler that could have burned a hole through him. Kessler grimaced apologetically.

"I did not witness any kind of altercation between my partner and a suspect," he said shortly. "When I arrived downstairs, Munch, Briscoe, and Kessler were in the middle of a physical confrontation, which I broke up."

Gilbert cut in again, his words exaggerated and dripping with exasperation. "Were there any words exchanged between your partner and a person inside the holding cell?"

He looked at the agent coldly. "The only words came from the suspect as he was insulting my partner and using derogatory phrases towards him."

Gilbert pursed his lips so hard that they turned white. He and Fin glared at each other for a minute and then he turned toward the other detectives.

"This 'physical confrontation'," he said, the quote from Fin dripping with sarcasm, "was brought about because Detective Munch had his weapon drawn in the lockup." He looked at Briscoe and Kessler threateningly before coming back to Fin. "Detective Briscoe, those were your words."

Fin zeroed in on the younger detective angrily. _So you're the snitch._

Briscoe squirmed uncomfortably under his fellow detective's angry stare and said nothing.

"Detective," Lieutenant Barry prompted.

Fin glanced at him in surprise. _Traitor._

"Detec-" Agent Gilbert began again.

"Yes," Briscoe interrupted harshly.

"Did you see Detective Munch direct his weapon toward any person inside the lockup?" Gilbert continued stonily.

Briscoe glanced discreetly at Fin again.

Fin clenched his jaw, his intent clear in his eyes. _Squeal and your ass is mine._

He looked back to the agent and lifted his chin slightly. "No," he said. He raised an eyebrow, daring the other man to challenge him. "I didn't."

Clenching his teeth, Agent Gilbert's gaze flitted to the other chair. "Detective Kessler," he said. "Did you see Detective Munch direct his weapon toward any person inside the lockup?"

"I did not," Kessler said clearly, his gaze never wavering.

Agent Black stepped over to the desk and removed a piece of paper from the edge. "We have a complaint from one Jason Evans," he said evenly. "Currently in your custody, claiming that Detective Munch placed his weapon on his forehead and cocked the trigger." He looked up and at the three detectives. "You're saying he's lying."

Not one of the detectives said a word.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The participants all rose to their feet.

Casey put down her pen and stood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haskins scribbling something furiously on a legal pad before standing as well.

"The honorable Judge Franklin Deems presiding," the bailiff said. "Court is now in session. Be seated."

The courtroom echoed with scuffling feet as everyone sat back down.

The imposing black man in the judge's booth flipped through several papers in front of him. After a moment, he looked out at the congregation.

"Good morning, Counselors," he said cordially.

"Good morning, your Honor," Casey replied.

"Good morning," Haskins echoed.

"We're here to review a change of venue motion filed December 13th, concerning docket number 10-2343, People v. Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas, and Jeffrey Pendleton," he read, glancing at the paper again for a moment. "Under judgment by Judge Warren L. Verella." He looked out once more. "Is this correct?"

Casey glanced at Haskins. He gestured to her with a sly smirk. Her gaze narrowed, but she refused to let him goad her.

"This is correct, your Honor," she said.

"Who requested the motion?" Deems asked.

"The defense, your Honor," Haskins interjected.

Judge Deems nodded. "Mr. Haskins," he said. "You may proceed, sir."

"Thank you, your Honor," he said. He straightened a few papers spread before him and flexed his fingers. "Your Honor, it is my belief that because of the nature of the allegations against my clients, having the trial here will produce unfair prejudices by the public, and in essence, effect the disposition of the jury."

"What evidence do you have for your beliefs, Mr. Haskins?" Judge Deems asked, his voice deep and boisterous.

"The alleged victim is a member of the New York Police Department," he said. He glanced at the pad in front of him for confirmation. "Detective Elliot Stabler." His gaze was steadfast and intense toward the judge. "It is no secret that the police protect their own, your Honor. I have no doubt that allowing the trial to take place among the detective's peers will provide ample opportunity for the jury to be swayed."

Judge Deems looked at him for a moment before turning toward Casey. "Counselor?" he prodded, raising his eyebrows at her.

Casey stood as well. "The NYPD has made Detective Stabler's kidnapping a matter of public knowledge since almost the second week of November," she said. "With all due respect, your Honor…"

She hesitated. "Technically, anyone with access to radio, television, internet, or a newspaper has a chance of knowing something about this case." She allowed a moment for her words to sink in before continuing. "But nonetheless, the people see no reason to object the defense's motion."

Casey waited until the judge looked down at his notes before risking a glance at Haskins. The suspicious scowl he sent toward her sent childish pleasure through her.

"If both parties are in agreement," he said. "I have no problem granting your request, Mr. Haskins." The defense attorney smiled. "Do you have someplace in mind?"

Haskins appeared caught off-guard and hesitated.

"Um…not particularly, your Honor," he answered slowly.

"If I may, your Honor?" Casey jumped in, a little nervously. She waited for Judge Deems to nod his permission. "The people would like to request a trial in close proximity to Buffalo. Aside from being near the general vicinity of where the crime took place, it is also more easily accessible to Mercy General Hospital, which is where Detective Stabler is currently still admitted."

Judge Deems nodded and looked to Haskins again. "Any objections, Mr. Haskins?"

A sudden, almost primal instinct crept up her stomach. She could stomach the man defending scum… but if he tried to jeopardize her friend, fair play was gone.

Almost as if he could sense her thoughts, Haskins was quick to answer. "No, your Honor."

Deems nodded. "Then I hereby order the criminal trial to take place in the venue of the   
Buffalo County Courthouse. Judge Verella will be notified and will accommodate accordingly." He slammed the gavel down to finalize the decision and raised his eyebrows at the attorneys. "Are there any other issues we need to clear up, Counselors?"

"Uh, yes, your Honor," she jumped in, before Haskins had a chance to say anything. She began straightening her notes as she talked. "As of right now, Detective Stabler is physically incapable of providing a statement to the police regarding his attack. Without his testimony, it is impossible to prove the guilt or innocence of the defendants. The people are requesting that a trial continuance be issued until which time a statement can be obtained."

Judge Deems nodded. "So noted," he said, writing on his notes. "I will contact Judge Verella with your appeal. Is there anything else?"

Both attorneys shook their heads and Judge Deems slammed the gavel down again.

"This court is dismissed," he said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The bright mid-morning sunlight was virtually nonexistent behind the heavy drapes and to anyone passing by, it was just another empty house waiting for its hardworking owner to return in the evening.

Just the way he wanted it.

John sat with his back against the sofa cushions and drained the last of the bottle of Guinness, letting it drop to the floor carelessly to join the half-dozen others scattered there.

The five remaining bottles sat in the case beside him. He slapped a hand down over the case hard and let his arm drop heavily down to the couch.

His eyes were bloodshot and the five o'clock shadow had turned into more like a two-am scruff. He was almost sure that when he stood up, he would see butt imprints on the cushions.

Fuck all of it.

Fuck shaving and fuck sleep. Fuck brushing his teeth and eating and taking a shower and going to the fucking precinct to be a fucking sex crimes detective.

He wished he'd never heard of the Special Victims Unit. He wished he'd just stayed in Baltimore and retired in his cottage by the bay to write novels for a living like he'd wanted to do after he had grandkids.

He wished Elliot Stabler had never met him.

Sobs erupted from his lips and he dropped his head to his chest. Reaching blindly beside him, he fumbled around until he felt another bottle in his hand.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Olivia."

The weak voice caused her to jump and drop her can of Dr. Pepper to the floor.

"Shit," she cursed quickly, hurrying to set it upright.

She bolted from the chair and into the bathroom, removing several paper towels which she quickly placed over the spreading pool of liquid.

It had been almost four days since she had last heard his voice. Doctor Beck had finally been able to start a routine dosage after the initial shock had faded from his system, and though it left him pretty much consistently unconscious, at least she could relax a little knowing that the medicine was finally getting a chance to work.

She and Kathy also had begun a loose routine. Olivia stayed in the room during the day so that Kathy could go to work and be home when her kids came from school, then his ex-wife would come and stay with them during the night.

Kathy had pleaded with the detective to go home. She needed sleep, she needed a shower…she needed to let her body unwind. But Olivia had been adamant in her refusal and nothing the other woman did could change her mind.

So, after getting the okay from Olivia, Kathy had gone over to her apartment and packed a bag with clothes and toiletries. Olivia felt horrible about the other woman going through that kind of trouble, but Kathy only dismissed her apologies with carefree grace and brought her dinner every night.

The reality that he was actually awake again had her nearly tripping in her haste to the bedside.

"Elliot," she said softly, leaning over the railing. She reached out to gently lay a hand on his chest. "Hey….hey, honey."

She saw his facial muscles contract slightly as a shiver coursed through him. He weakly brought the blankets up closer to his chin and fidgeted.

The excitement at seeing him awake again was gone in a flash. Something wasn't right.

"Hey," she said, her voice becoming slightly concerned. "Do you feel alright? Do you want me to get the doctor?" Her heart began to pound and she reflexively moved her hand up to cradle his cheek.

He jerked his head to the side, away from her touch, and she nearly lost her breath when she looked into his eyes.

She had known this man for almost nine years and was so in tune with his every motion that if they were married he would probably want to kill her by now. She had access to his thoughts just by the slight changes that his eye color reflected.

They were always lightest when he was up to something. A shit-eating grin was always, _always_ paired with a pair of eyes the color of the Caribbean Ocean.

Storm-cloud blue was a dead giveaway of crying. Be it from an allergic reaction or a gunshot wound, any type of redness at all would set off a deep blue that was almost too intense to look into.

When he was pissed, his eyes turned the color of slate…and oddly enough, it was her favorite one. As soon as he opened his mouth, of course, she sometimes had to restrain herself from giving him a nice round shiner to match the slate, but there was just something about that smoky hue that made her breath catch.

Thanks to these events, there was a new addition to the collection…the color of fear. She couldn't even describe the hue it made, but it was the one shade that she would give anything to never see again.

But not even nine years worth of moods, expressions, and nuances was enough to recognize this one.

His eyes were so hollow and empty that it seemed as if the pupils had overtaken them. She literally was having a hard time distinguishing any blue in them at all….and for a man who was remembered most often for his stunning eyes, it scared her so much that she almost began to shake.

"Elliot?" she asked again, hesitantly. She prayed her voice sounded stronger than she felt at the moment. "Talk to me. Something's wrong… what is it?"

He turned his head away from her to face the wall.

"I'm thirsty," he said quietly. His voice sounded absolutely drained of life. "Olivia…please, I need something to drink."

Perplexed, agonized, and terrified, she backed away slightly and pressed the call button. He didn't move from his position at all.

The door cracked open a couple of minutes later and a nurse poked her head in. "Yes," she asked cheerily. "What can I do for you?"

Olivia turned toward her. She had to swallow before she could speak. "Could he have something to drink?"

The petite brunette stepped into the room. "Ah, thirsty, Mr. Stabler?" she asked pleasantly, walking to the IV drip. "That's a good sign...the electrolytes are starting to balance out again."

She looked down at the bed, her smile eventually falling when she received no response. She cast a concerned glance to Olivia and the detective stared at the ground.

"I'm afraid liquid isn't allowed yet," she said regretfully, becoming serious. "But how about if I get you some ice chips, is that okay?"

A long silence followed and she looked at Olivia in confusion again.

"Yes," a voice said finally from the bed, nearly inaudible. He didn't turn. "Thank you."

Her brows furrowed, the woman walked slowly toward the door. "I'll be just a minute," she said before disappearing.

Hesitantly, Olivia ventured to the bedside again.

Tears were streaming freely down his averted face and the expression of utter despair she saw had her eyes welling.

"Elliot," she said softly, trying to keep her distance while still coming close. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

He sniffled, swallowing, as the tears continued. But his voice was deadly calm…not even a hint of distress at all.

"Just don't leave," he said softly. "Please… don't leave."

"I'm not going to leave," she said. Taking a chance, she stepped up to the railing. "Honey, nothing could make me leave. I promise you." Anxiety was making her voice slightly shrill. "Please tell me, Elliot…please tell me what's wrong."

She watched, her heart in her throat, and waited. There was nothing.

He didn't face her, he didn't speak…he barely even blinked.

All he did was sob silently against the wall.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Thanks to wcgreen for correcting my slip-up- since Buffalo is a part of Erie County, the Buffalo County Court technically can't exist. I actually meant the Buffalo _City_ Court. It is in the 8th judicial district and is located at 50 Delaware Avenue in Buffalo, New York.**

**My apologies…right now my brain bears a slight resemblance to scrambled eggs. Thanks to all of you willing to help keep my facts credible, I appreciate it more than you realize.**

The cover slip slid onto the counter for the third time.

Biting her lip to keep from snapping into the phone, Melinda once again attempted to hold the wet mount slide still.

"I-" The plastic sliver fell again. She held her breath and tried to reign in the explosion of frustration that wanted desperately to break free. "Casey, I understand that, but-"

She shrugged her shoulder in attempt to keep the phone from slipping down her neck. It became obvious at once that she wasn't going to be able to balance the phone and maintain her precarious attempt at the slide without losing one or both in the process.

Huffing angrily, she picked up the slide between her fingers and lifted it from the microscope, placing it carefully on the paper towel by her elbow.

"You have no idea just how much this is killing me, Casey," she said, leaning her elbows wearily on the lab table in front of her. Lifting the phone, she switched it to her left ear and rubbed the right one, wincing. "But I just…right now I can't do anything about it. I already violated the rules by allowing my lab assistant to process the results of his kit before the other ones we've already got lined up. If I allow it to go through the system right now, I'll probably wind up fired."

Her hands came up to scrub over weary eyes as the other woman continued.

"Yes," she answered, blowing through her cheeks. "Yes….I explained that to the Chief Medical Examiner the day after I did the procedure." She paused, listening. "I realize that, but…Casey, the only way I'd have clearance to do that would be if the results were needed to make an arrest…the suspects are already in holding."

Her eyes slid closed and she allowed the Assistant District Attorney to go on.

"Look," she said, trying to control the pain in her voice. "Right now, I've got three others due before his. I already talked to my boss about authorizing as much of a rush on them as humanly possible. I give you my word that it will be in your hands the second it's finished."

She bit her lip. "Going on the premises that there are no system malfunctions, staff shortages, or sudden evidence changes barring them, I'd estimate a week…but like I said, the second I have it, you'll have it. I'll hand-deliver it personally if I have to."

She blew through her cheeks again and let out a long, weary breath.

"Alright," she said. "It's okay, believe me…we're in the same boat, Casey. Trust me." She closed her eyes. "Okay…not a problem. Yeah….bye."

Melinda reached up to disconnect the phone and dropped the receiver onto the table. Her head sank down far into her hands and she stayed there a moment, massaging her scalp.

With a sigh, she straightened again and turned back toward the counter.

"Gary," she called out wearily, dabbing the slide carefully with another paper towel. "I need some more solvent."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Seeing the detective putting on his coat, Don made a beeline for the door. Pulling it open, he stepped into the doorway quickly.

"Kessler," he called out, before he could make his escape. The detective turned hesitantly and he gestured. "Can I see you a minute?"

Fin glanced up from the report he was writing as Kessler walked past his desk. He could feel the captain staring at him but refused to meet his eyes, instead going back to his work.

Cragen knew that Fin saw him looking at him and clenched his teeth when the detective deliberately ignored him. Rather than say anything, he waited until Jake Kessler passed him and followed him into the office, closing the door.

"Have a seat," he invited lightly as he came around his desk.

"No, I'd rather not," the detective clipped coldly.

Don did a double take at the harsh tone and eyed him sharply. The petulant expression he saw on the other man's face sparked his temper.

"Suit yourself," he responded brusquely, sitting down. Folding his hands in front of him, he began searching for a way to get the thoughts formed into words. He had intended to broach the subject tactfully, but seeing the man's attitude, he decided to just barrel in. "Jake, are you trying to lose your pension on purpose?"

Startled, Kessler jerked his eyes from his intense study of the desktop and stared in disbelief at his captain. "I'm sorry?"

Cragen gazed at him squarely and didn't speak, allowing the threatening silence to wrap around them for a minute.

"Fin and Briscoe still have a chance to start over," he continued, as if the other man hadn't even responded. "But you…" He raised his eyebrows and tried his hardest to convey his deep feelings for the situation into his eyes. "You've been a cop coming up on sixteen years."

He paused, biting his lip. Kessler was having a hard time keeping the tightness under control on his face, his eyes on the ground again. "Are you really willing to let all the work you've done go down the drain for the sake of your reputation?"

The detective's head snapped up and fire glowed in his eyes. But he still said nothing.

Finally, Cragen lost his patience. "This isn't a game, Detective," he said menacingly, narrowing his eyes. "Someone had better come clean with me before IAB finishes their investigation because right now all three of you are looking at formal conspiracy charges, and that's grounds for discharge."

The outrage and despair welling up inside suddenly became too much and Kessler cracked.

"I love my job, Captain," he said harshly, his heart pounding furiously all the while with the knowledge that the man in front of him could take his badge at any moment. Anger was starting to make him tremble. "This isn't fair. You think I asked to be put in this situation?"

His brain caught up to his mouth a second too late and he cringed at the look of rage that twisted Cragen's face. His heart began to race harder but he forced himself to hold his tongue and tough it out.

The captain stood up from his chair.

Kessler felt dizzy and swallowed hard. _Oh, shit._

"You think Stabler _asked_ to be abducted, Kessler?" he said, his voice thick with rage. He took a step away from his chair. "You think I _asked_ for my squad to be ripped apart at the seams in a matter of months?"

He kept coming closer and closer to the other man, his voice rising with every word. He could barely see through the spots of red dancing in front of his eyes.

His fists were tightly clenched. "You think I _asked_ to need a rape kit performed on one of my _own detectives?" _His face was red as he began bellowing. "_**Does that sound fair to you?**"_

The silence that followed was so loud that it made the detective fight the urge to cover his ears.

Don swallowed hard. His fists were shaking as he concentrated on controlling his ragged breaths.

"No, sir." The response was so quiet that it was almost like it wasn't even said.

He didn't acknowledge the words. He didn't apologize for his outburst. He didn't even look at the detective. He just stared at the floor, breathing in heavily through his nose, and waited for his heart to stop its tremors.

Kessler kept his gaze on the floor in front of him as well and didn't speak.

After what seemed like an eternity, he noticed the captain lift his head. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and deadly controlled.

"I don't care what you do, Kessler. My job isn't at risk." He waited until the man looked at him hesitantly and glared at him. "Something did…or did not….happen, and I _will _find out from IAB one way or the other." He paused and shook his head. "I'm already looking at having to replace two of my detectives….three more isn't going to matter to them."

He fell silent with nothing more to say and the two men stared at each other.

"Can I go?" Kessler finally asked, with his jaw clenched.

The captain said nothing. Swallowing hard, the detective turned and opened the door, walking out of the office without a word.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She continued to stroke her hand over his temple, into his hair. Her nails skittered across his scalp and the sensation made him shiver with pleasure, a soft groan eliciting from his lips. It died as quickly as it had come, tears seeping from under his tightly-closed eyes again.

"Everything's going to be okay, sweetheart," she said, barely able to speak through her own tears. A sob was just barely concealed deep in her chest. "It's going to be fine, Elliot. I promise you….it's going to be just fine."

"No," he wailed. Exhaustion and anxiety made his voice sound almost like a whine. "Don't touch me." He began sobbing so hard that he could barely speak. "I'm dirty. I'm so dirty…don't touch me."

Her own dam broke then and she could do nothing about it.

"No," she sobbed painfully, trying to speak normally. Her chest began to shake as she stroked over his face. "No, baby… you're not dirty, Elliot. You're not."

He shook his head, his face crumpled. "I am," he gasped. He was crying so hard that he was almost heaving. "I'm disgusting."

He kept scooting further and further away from her and turned his face completely to the other side.

"I'm disgusting," he whispered to the wall, his body shaking. "I'm disgusting."

Olivia swallowed hard and tried to breathe through her sobs. She didn't speak. She just kept her position beside him and stroked through his hair gently, hugging his back with her chin hooked over his shoulder.

His sobs began to hitch and she knew that he was fighting the sleep that was so desperately trying to overtake him

The medication schedule had become so engrossed in her brain by now that she didn't need to wear a watch or worry about charging her cell phone.

Oxycodone at 9 am.

Darvocet at 2 pm.

Codeine at 4:30 pm.

Vicodin and Butalbital at 10 pm to help him sleep through the night.

It was quarter to five. It would only be a matter of minutes now.

She felt the muscles in his back going limp. Olivia stroked the back of his neck as she listened to his breathing evening out.

Finally, his head slumped where he had it resting against the wall and he lost.

She waited a minute and then carefully lifted herself to stand upright. She clutched the blanket from where it lay balled near his legs and straightened it out, pulling it up over his back.

Swallowing repeatedly to clear the lump in her throat, she picked up the stuffed rabbit from where it had been smashed up against the railing and carefully reached over his shoulder to place it down against his chest.

Her legs were shaking as she took the few steps back to the chair. She sat down and buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently.

The fear she could handle.

Those times when he became so afraid of who might be on the other side of the door that he would cling to her hard enough to imbed nail markings in her skin.

The moments when the drugs made him so out of it that every voice, including hers, sent him into fits of terror.

As much as it killed her inside, she could handle it when he was afraid. It was seeing evidence of the other extreme that made her sick.

The moments she would happen to look up from her book to check on him sleeping and find him staring blankly at the wall beside the bed, barely blinking.

The times he would lay awake with a dazed expression on his face, like he didn't know where he was.

The times when he would sob silently into the pillow and not respond to her when she spoke.

It only confirmed the dreadful thought that had been consuming her since the moment he was brought in.

He was starting to realize what had happened.

And as much as she wanted to, as much as she would have killed to take the burden away, she couldn't. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

It was the one place that no one would ever be able to reach.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Thanks," she said, sticking her credit card back into her purse.

She picked up the salad and the bottle of Pepsi from the counter and turned away, barely in time to avoid being knocked backwards by the overeager man standing in line behind her.

Shooting him a scathing glare, Casey rolled her eyes and began fighting her way through the small, crowded deli. A blast of frigid air assaulted her before she was even near the entrance and she saw that the line was literally out the door, customers holding the door open as they stood.

Lifting her purse up, she attempted to squeeze between two tables pushed insanely close together while trying not to let her Pepsi bottle slam into the head of the man sitting nearest to her.

As she scooted past the last set of tables, she caught sight of a brightly colored sign hanging above the door, right below the bell.

'**_Tis the season to be jolly!_**

Scoffing dryly, she pushed her way out into the cold air.

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The gigantic crash made him jump, his arm flinging into the wooden coffee table beside him.

Pain shooting through his fingers woke him up fast.

"Fuck!" John yelled, shaking the throbbing limb in the air painfully.

Cursing again, he struggled to sit up, his muscles sluggish and uncooperative from nearly an entire day of lying on the aged, lumpy sofa. Gripping the back of the couch, he managed to pull himself up enough to get to the window.

Another crash sounded as he stuck his fingers between the blinds. The sky was overcast and dreary, but felt like mid-afternoon sun to his over-sensitized eyes. He winced and squinted out across the small lawn.

The garbage truck was roaring loudly as it idled next to the curb. Huge mechanical claws were lifting up the last of his three metal garbage cans, producing another ground-rumbling crash as it smacked against the side of the truck. Once all the waste had fallen out, the claws opened, sending the can hurtling loudly against the pavement again. It slammed into the other two beside it and sent all of them toppling as the truck roared away.

Groaning, Munch dropped his hand from the blinds and sank back against the couch. He pulled the quilt over his head and tried desperately to return back to the welcome arms of oblivion.

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It took six floors and the entire hallway before he felt the cold beginning to leave his body. His fingers felt like icicles as he pushed open the doors to the squad room and he cursed himself again for forgetting his gloves.

After hanging up his coat, Fin went straight to the coffee machine and poured himself a full cup. He sipped it immediately, sighing in relief at the warmth seeping down into his insides, and removed several sugar packets as he turned away.

Passing by a pair of detectives on their way out, he arrived at his desk and scowled. Three more packets in need of filing had already been placed overtop of the four that he hadn't gotten to yesterday.

Despite the bustle of activity all around him, he could still feel the eyes on him and whirled around at once.

Cragen stood in the doorway of his office. Fin knew without question that the captain had been watching him from the moment he stepped through the door.

The meaningful stare directed towards him was the same one he had been getting for the past week and struggling hard to try to ignore. He met the older man's gaze briefly, in a half-assed attempt to salvage his own pride, and then stubbornly turned away.

His eyes flitted across the divide to the empty desk adjoining his and he clenched his teeth. He could still feel the stare burning into his back.

After a minute, he looked over at Cragen once more.

The captain looked at him with an expression of inquisition mixed with pleading and it pierced his heart. He was as torn about the situation as they were.

He held the gaze for a long moment and bit his lip, glancing over at the empty desk again. Lowering his eyes, he shook his head slightly and turned away.

When he ventured his eyes back up after a few moments, the doorway was empty.

Anger and despair welled up and he growled savagely, smacking his hand down against the desktop. He slammed his eyes closed, his breathing rapid and labored.

After a minute, he glanced up and walked slowly around his chair to the other desk.

He reached out and gently flipped the page on the Marine Corp calendar, tucking it behind the other used ones. Emotion slammed into his chest and he had to take a deep breath before turning back.

Wednesday, December 20th.

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"Hold the elevator, please!"

Her heels made an obnoxious squeaking sound as she raced towards the elevator, reminiscent of her days on the high-school basketball court, and the random thought that she had probably left a black scuff mark on the linoleum floated into her brain.

Dashing inside, she smiled gratefully at the woman holding the button as she squeezed her way towards the back.

"Thanks," she said, catching her breath.

The woman did not look at her or respond, nor did any of the seven or so-odd other people inside the car. Casey glanced around as she collected herself, shrugging her briefcase more securely over her shoulder and shifting the cup of coffee to the other hand.

_I wonder how these people would react if I just suddenly struck up a random conversation?_

An amused grin slipped out and spread over her face. The societal silence-no-eye-contact-face-forward mandate that accompanied elevators was one of her biggest pet peeves…in college, she was known for making jokes or crude noises among total strangers just for the hell of it.

Suppressing her urge just because it was too damn early, she waited as the car stopped on every floor to let others off. At the fourth stop, she made her way out into the hallway and breathed deeply, thankful for open space.

Rounding the corner, she stopped outside of her office and pulled out her keys, swiftly unlocking the door. She switched on the lights and went straight to the window to pull up the shade. The sky was overcast, but it was still natural light. Florescent bulbs and a desk lamp for ten hours made her stir-crazy.

Dropping her briefcase down on her desk, she unlatched it and dug through it. She pulled out her legal pads, appointment book, and files before placing the worn leather bag underneath of her chair.

Her foot encountered a blockage as she was scooting the bag out of the way of the chair's wheels and she looked down to see the cardboard box that still sat there. She had looked at the contents of the crime scene evidence once after she had finally managed to obtain it from the clerk and then shoved it out of sight.

It was definitely admissible. It would definitely do a lot for her case. It was definitely going to have an impact on a jury.

But it also definitely provided a sharp reminder of just how personally involved she was.

The phone rang, providing welcome distraction, and she snapped her head back up. Pushing the chair away, she stepped closer to the desk and reached for it.

"Casey Novak," she said.

"Judge Verella's back in his office," Arthur Branch said without identifying himself.

Her stomach swirled anxiously and she clutched the phone tighter.

The judge had been out of town since the day of the change of venue hearing. She and Haskins had yet to meet with him to discuss formalities and procedures for the case, and the waiting had given her paranoia about what the defense could be cooking up next ample time to fester.

Swallowing hard, she brought herself back to focus.

"Thank you, sir," she said, feeling like she had swallowed a rock. "I'm preparing to contact him."

"The sooner, the better, Casey," were the parting words of her boss. He hung up before she could get another word in.

Dropping the phone down into the cradle, she took a deep breath and leaned her arms onto the desk. She hung her head and breathed in and out several times.

After a minute, she lifted herself up and reached for the phone again.

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The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

She continued to flip through the issue of _Cosmopolitan _that was on her lap, reaching out to snag the bottle of Sprite she'd placed on the coffee table next to her stocking feet.

The cold, lemony sensation was euphoric to her parched throat and she chugged half the bottle before replacing it back on the table again.

Another ring.

_Beep._

"Yes, hello, Mrs. Stabler," a female voice suddenly boomed from the absurdly loud answering machine. "This is Susanne Ellington, from the attendance office at Westmoreland High School…"

Kathleen's head snapped up toward the phone.

"I'm calling to inform you that your daughter, Kathleen Stabler, has missed a total of eight class periods over the past week, and to remind you of school policy that any more than four undocumented absences will result in a failing grade for the course.

The student may request conferences at the convenience of the teacher if she so desires, but as of right now, she is marked as officially receiving a failing grade. Again, my name is Susanne Ellington, from the attendance office. If you have any questions, feel free to call at 410-7676, extension 656. Have a nice day."

_Beep._

Setting the magazine aside, she got to her feet and padded over to the phone. She pressed the blinking light on the answering machine once, then the button next to it.

The slightly-robotic automated voice boomed out.

"Message has been erased." Pause. "You have no messages."

Kathleen stared menacingly at the phone for a moment before turning back towards the couch again.

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"My clients have the right to a fair trial, your Honor," Haskins protested.

"The victim has rights, too," Casey cut in icily, looking beside her to the other attorney.

Judge Verella held his hands up. "Calm down, Counselors," he said sharply, looking from one to the other threateningly. "I won't ask again."

Biting her lip, she fell silent and gazed down at her hands, folded in her lap. The defense attorney went quiet as well.

The grey-haired man behind the large desk looked first to Casey. "While I am in no way unsympathetic towards the condition of your victim," he said evenly before switching his stare to Haskins, "I also have an obligation to the law, and that means accommodating for the right to due process."

Casey could feel the blood as it pumped through her heart and arteries. She clenched her fists tight and worked on keeping her expression neutral.

"Since the kidnapping charge can be sufficient through witness as well as victim's testimony, I will allow those proceedings to take place first." Verella looked to her again. "Ms. Novak? Can you produce your witness in time for a proceeding to take place on Friday, the 22nd?"

She felt a brick slam into her stomach. _Oh…Olivia's not going to be happy to hear this…_

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Yes, your Honor," she said, wincing inwardly.

The judge nodded, looking to Haskins for his input. He simply smiled and nodded as well. Casey tried hard not to shoot daggers into him with her glance.

"Now," the judge said, looking through the other notes in front of him. "Let's talk about the proceedings." He glanced through the papers. "Mr. Haskins, I received your file motion….am I correct in assuming that you want each of your clients to be tried separately?"

The brick became a bag of cement

"Yes, your Honor," Haskins replied smoothly. "I feel it is only necessary when taking into account some of the charges my clients are facing…it's the only fair way to make sure one isn't sentenced according to acts he may not have been a part of."

_Oh, give me a break._ She fought to keep from speaking out loud. _Is this guy for real?_

By the look on the judge's face, he obviously was thinking along the same lines she was. She allowed a small grin to break free, careful to look at her lap.

"You do realize that each one will face accessory charges regardless of further sentencing solely based on the terms of arrest," Verella said.

"I am aware of that," he said, almost nonchalantly. "I am also aware that a sexual assault conviction can carry up to 25 years in prison, and I'm not willing to play games with such a serious charge."

"Your Honor," Casey jumped in quickly. She bit her lip when the judge looked at her sharply, but he didn't comment on her intrusion. "Detective Stabler was held captive for almost an entire month…he's in the Intensive Care Unit right now because of what the defendants did to him."

Her eyes were piercing as she glanced at the man beside her. "Making him retell his story so many times is only going to cause more trauma that he does not need or deserve."

The judge looked between the two of them a few times, seemingly in thought.

"I will allow the defendants separate trials," he said finally, directing his statement toward Haskins. Seeing Casey about to speak, he held up his hand. "However, in the interest of the victim, I'm not going to authorize seven trials to take place for the same charge."

He looked directly at the defense attorney. "Mr. Haskins," he said. "I am giving you a three-day window of time, during which you may split up your clients in any way you wish. Not a day longer." He eyed him sharply. "Is that understood, Counselor?"

She could see the anger that was longing to burst from the other man and it made her almost giddy with sick pleasure.

"Yes, your Honor," Haskins said woodenly.

"You are both aware," Verella said, looking between them again, "that this will only apply for the sexual assault charges. All of the defendants are to be present at the same time for the trial involving kidnapping charges." He looked directly at Casey to remind her. "Ms. Novak…Friday the 22nd."

She nodded quickly. "Yes, your Honor," she said. "Friday, the 22nd."

The older man nodded, marking on his notepad in front of him. He looked at them both. "Any issues, Counselors?"

"No, your Honor," Casey said,

Haskins shook his head in reply.

"I will see you both in court on Friday," the judge said. "Have a nice day."

They all stood up. Haskins made to come around his chair first and encountered Casey doing the same. She gave him an icy look and he stepped back, gesturing chivalrously for her to step through first.

She could sense the other attorney wanting to say something as soon as they stepped out of the judges' office, so she quickly pulled her cell phone out so that he wouldn't have the chance.

Haskins smirked in amusement at the tactic and headed for the elevators.

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Knocking softly, she opened the door as gently as she could and stepped into the doorway. "Hey," she said quietly.

Olivia jumped about four feet, her head swiveling around fast.

Kathy winced. "Sorry," she apologized, setting her bag by the door.

"It's okay," the other woman replied wearily.

She set her book on the bedside table and dropped her head into her hands, pushing on the back of her neck. The exhaustion on her face seemed even more acute than normal.

"Traffic was a nightmare tonight," she said, coming further inside. She fiddled with the paper bag in her hands as she stepped up to offer it to Olivia. "Subway Club…no onions."

It smelled like heaven, but her stomach turned.

"Thank you," Olivia said graciously.

She placed it on the table and didn't touch it. Kathy looked at her in concern for a moment but decided not to comment. Instead, she turned toward the bed. Her face melted instantly, seeing Elliot lying awake.

"Hi, honey," she said tenderly, a sad smile overtaking her features. She approached the side of the bed, hesitantly raising her hand towards his face. After a moment, she graced his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't acknowledge her.

Olivia was looking at the ground and didn't acknowledge her either when she glanced over at her.

It was going to be one of those nights.

But Kathy just smiled brightly, surprising her. "I'll bet I can get a smile," she said warmly, stepping away from the bed. Olivia looked at her in surprise as she headed for the open door.

"Dad?"

Olivia felt her heart jump. All four of his kids shuffled timidly into the doorway with Kathy behind them.

She turned her head toward the bed. Elliot was looking over at the door with a shocked expression on his face and it made her start momentarily.

The expression looked…..like him.

He stared at them, his eyes wide and shining.

"Guys," he murmured breathily.

Elizabeth was the first one to cross the room. They were both sobbing before she even reached him. She collapsed against the bed and Elliot grabbed her, holding her so tightly that the veins in his arms bulged.

"Lizzie," he whispered hoarsely. "My angel…Elizabeth."

"I love you," Elizabeth sobbed into his chest. She was digging her nails against his neck in her frantic hold. "Oh, Dad, I missed you so much….I missed you so much."

He sobbed again, pulling her closer. "I missed you too, baby…Jesus, I missed you."

After a long time, she broke away and Maureen was in her arms in almost the next second, producing more sobs.

"Daddy," she wailed, kissing his face all over. "Daddy."

"Hi, baby girl," he said, nuzzling her neck. "My baby girl."

"I love you so much," she croaked painfully, framing his face with her hands. The matching set of blue eyes looking back at her made her giddy.

Kathleen stood beside the railing waiting for her sister to finish.

"Dad," she gasped, nearly knocking Maureen off of her feet.

"Kat," he sobbed, hugging her hard. He kissed the crown of her head. "How you doin'? How you doin'?"

When they were through, he had to stop to get his sobs under control. Then confusion set in and he moved his daughter gently out of the way, looking anxiously toward the door.

Dickie was sobbing hard, standing against the wall. He looked terrified.

Elliot's voice broke. "Son," he gasped. He held his arm out pleadingly, almost knocking over the IV pole. "Dickie."

The boy sobbed again, looking at his father desperately.

"_STOP, PLEASE! STOP!"_

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Dickie," he sobbed. "Son."

After another minute, Kathy began moving toward her son. "Baby…"

She jumped in surprise when Dickie zipped across the room and nearly jumped into his father's arms.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

His face crumbled almost immediately, sending knives deep into her heart.

"No," he said in a wavering voice. He struggled to reach his arms out, his body starting to shake. "Please…"

Olivia's head bowed, despair etched on her face.

She looked at her children. They were all crying as they stood still next to the female detective.

The nurse had come in about fifteen minutes ago to administer his nighttime dosage. The announcement for the end of visiting hours repeated for the third and final time.

"Don't leave," he said, sobs hitching his voice. He looked pleadingly at her and back to their children. "Please don't make them leave."

Kathy made sure to keep taking calm, relaxed breaths to keep herself composed.

The breakdowns had become a daily occurrence, stemming as he fought to keep from succumbing to the drug-induced oblivion after being given another dose of medication. By now, they were almost routine.

But expecting them didn't make witnessing them any easier.

"Olivia," she said quietly, struggling to keep from crying herself.

The detective's head came up to look at her. Kathy was shocked to see a trail of tears on her left cheek and almost couldn't speak.

Brown eyes stared deep into hers with pain so sharp that the only reason Kathy recognized it was because she knew it was reflecting in her own eyes.

"Why don't you walk them downstairs," she continued softly. Her gaze shifted to meet her son's and her heart broke at the look on his face. Closing her eyes briefly, she sought out her oldest daughter's eyes. "I'll call you before I go to bed."

For a long moment, not one of them moved or reacted.

Desperation threatened to make her voice crack. "Please," she said painfully.

Maureen finally responded first. She met gazes with Olivia, stepping around her younger siblings.

It seemed to snap Olivia out of it as well.

"Come on, guys," she murmured, wrapping her hands gently over Dickie's shoulders.

Kathy swallowed hard. "I love you," she said as they walked out the door.

Olivia waited until they were all ahead of her before turning back. "I'll be back in a little while," she said.

The look of protectiveness couldn't be masked on her face and Kathy stared into her eyes meaningfully. She knew how much it hurt Olivia to leave him when he was upset and it meant more to her than the other woman could ever know.

His sobs made her turn back around. The broken-hearted look on his face was unbearable and she ate up the distance to his side in almost seconds.

He slumped against her when she wrapped her arms around him and cried painfully, his attempts at speaking sounding more like wails than words.

"Don't… want them to leave," he moaned against her shoulder in a choked voice. He gasped in breaths between sobs loudly, swallowing repeatedly. "Please don't take them away."

Kathy rocked him back and forth soothingly, running her fingers tenderly over the tears as they left his eyes.

"Oh, Elliot. It's okay," she said lovingly, her tone almost maternal even though her heart was aching with a vengeance. She continued wiping his face, shushing him quietly. "They're going to come back, baby. I promise…they'll be back. It's time to go to sleep now…that's why they have to leave. That's all."

She could feel his body beginning to sag against her and pressed her face against his head, drawing him in closer and continuing to rock him.

"They're going to come back," she said, lowering her voice gradually. She began rubbing gentle circles over his upper back. "Shh…sleep, Elliot. Everything's alright. They're going to come back." He was becoming heavier and heavier. "I promise."

Taking the chance, she began forcing him gently backwards toward the pillow. It was a testament to the drugs winning when he didn't fight.

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"_Do it!" he screamed. "Shoot me! SHOOT ME!"_

_His hand shook with rage. Growling, he pressed the gun harder against the convict's head. _

"_Give me a reason," he snarled. "Fucking bastard…I'll kill you right now."_

_Kessler grabbed his arms._

"_Don't do it, man," he said. "John, stop!"_

_Jason Evans smiled widely. _

"_Shoot me!" he kept yelling from behind him. "Shoot me!"_

_Jerking away from the other detective, John whipped around and released the trigger._

"_JOHN, DON'T!"_

_His eyes flew wide in shock at the sight of Elliot standing behind the bars where Jason Evans had just been. _

"_Oh, GOD!" he screamed wildly. A shocked expression was on his friend's face as he slammed to the ground. "NO!"_

He yelled savagely, slamming his head down against his chest and squeezing his eyes shut frantically even though it was too late.

"Oh, God," he wheezed, sobbing hard. "Oh, my God…."

He sat still and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard, trying to erase the images from his mind. After a few minutes, he lifted his head to look tearfully around at the dark living room.

Swallowing hard, John scooted further up the couch to rest his back against the cushions. He leaned his head back limply and allowed the sobs to take over, racking his body so much that he shook.

"I'm sorry, Elliot," he sobbed aloud into the darkness. "Forgive me. Please forgive me."

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She slid the swab into the second envelope and reached for the tape. A knock sounded from behind her.

"It's open!" Melinda called out without turning toward the door. She ripped the tape from the roll and pressed it tight against the seal, reaching for her pen.

"Sorry, Doc," a male voice said immediately as the person came inside.

"No problem, Aaron," she responded, recognizing one of the lab assistants without even pausing her work. She signed her name on the envelope and laid it to the side before turning around to face him. "What's up?"

Aaron Briggs stood in the doorway and didn't advance toward her, instead jerking his thumb toward the hallway. "There's a phone call for you."

"Alright, thanks," she said, turning back toward the counter. She opened the last envelope with one hand. "I'll be just a minute."

"Sure thing, Doc," he replied and walked out.

She carefully lifted the last swab and slipped it inside, taping it shut and signing it. Grabbing the other two in her hand as well, she walked toward the door, dropping them into the PERK container as she headed out.

Her gloves snapped loudly as she pulled them from her hands and tossed them into the waste can next to the door inside her office. Flexing them in an attempt to get rid of the wet, clammy feeling, she wiped them on her jeans before reaching for the phone.

She punched her extension and lifted the receiver. "Melinda Warner."

"Good morning, Doctor Warner," a friendly male voice responded. "This is Robert Beck, from Mercy General Hospital in Buffalo." He paused, sounding somewhat hesitant. "I'm the head surgeon for-"

"Doctor Beck," she interrupted pleasantly. "Good to hear from you. How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," he said, a smile evident in his voice. "I apologize if I've interrupted you-"

"No, not at all," she said quickly. "What can I do for you?"

"No technicalities this time, Ma'am," he replied in amusement. "I just wanted to personally condone you for your intelligence…you're instincts about Detective Stabler were absolutely correct. I feel horrible for giving you any trouble and ask that you please accept my sincerest apologies."

Melinda was so taken aback that she was momentarily speechless.

"Oh, goodness, Doctor Beck," she said in surprise. "Please don't apologize to me…I should be asking _your_ forgiveness. I had no right to challenge your practice, no matter what the circumstances." She smiled. "But I thank you all the same."

"The preliminary waiting period on the results of the vasectomy expired this morning and I was able to examine the findings again," the doctor continued. "You were right in your advice….the swelling of the genitals has drastically reduced. "

Her heart jumped excitedly. "So he's safe from the castration procedure, then?"

The silence that met her ears made her stomach drop to her feet. _Oh, God, _she thought in horror. _Oh, no…_

"Well, that's a little complicated," Doctor Beck finally said. "As far as it being necessary, the answer is yes. However, the vasectomy wasn't enough to fix the left testicle. It's suffered permanent damage and has no possibility of ever being able to heal. I'm going to leave the decision of what to do for Detective Stabler once he's better."

Melinda felt the wind rush from her diaphragm.

"That sounds wise," she managed to say weakly.

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"…so we took down the information."

Captain Russell Downing of the Manhattan Internal Affairs Bureau looked at the man sitting across from him and paused in case he wanted to say anything. When he didn't, the captain continued on.

"He claimed that Detective Munch drew his gun and cocked it before putting it through the bars and on his forehead," he said. "He also says that the detective ignored several attempts by others in the lockup to lower the weapon and kept threatening him repeatedly to move so that he'd have an excuse to shoot him."

Cragen clenched his fists by his sides and continued sitting woodenly as the man finished.

Captain Downing peered meaningfully across the desk. "Captain, is Detective Munch aware that he still has a chance to tell his side of the account during a temporary suspension? Did you explain that to him?"

"I did, Captain," Don replied helplessly. "Several times."

Downing pursed his lips. "How about the other three?" he asked.

Don's gaze was piercing as he pinned the man with a hard stare. "I'm still wondering why they're continuing to be involved," he said. "Evans never once mentioned any of them by name in his entire complaint."

"The complaint wasn't the reason for the investigation," Downing replied. "If it was, your detectives would be out working at this very moment and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Detective Briscoe was the one who decided to bring this to our attention, so now we're obligated to investigate all of them."

He shook his head angrily and didn't say anything. Downing looked at him meaningfully.

"You've got four days, Captain," he said. "If no one chooses to come forward with an account by then, you'll be short four detectives permanently."

Tense, angry silence fell as he stopped talking and the two men just stared at each other.

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"You know what we ought to do?" Olivia said quietly, shifting in the chair. "A night out. Maybe head down to Chicho's for some twenty-five cent wings and dollar pitchers on Saturdays, what do you think? Maybe Munch and Fin will come with us, or Casey. That would be fun, right?"

She stared at his sleeping form, turned sideways facing her, and pursed her lips gently. Sighing softly, she absently reached one finger out and traced gently across his forehead.

"At the very least, we should make time to have dinner," she continued casually. She grinned weakly. "A _real_ dinner…no hot dogs or pretzels from the street cart, buster."

She struggled to keep the tears at bay, her face drooping again. Scooting forward almost out of the chair, Olivia leaned next to his face and gently nestled her nose against the side of his neck.

"You're my best friend," she whispered hoarsely, taking a shuddering breath.

She felt moisture slide down her cheeks slowly. Her eyes slammed closed as the pain in her chest became unbearable and the sobs became free.

"My best friend," she repeated, stroking his cheek. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Elliot….I'm so sorry. Please don't give up on me. I promise…things will be different now. I promise."

She stayed there for a long time, not noticing or caring about the passage of time. Only when she heard the door opening did she raise her head, wiping her eyes hastily.

"Excuse me," a nurse said, smiling apologetically. "There's a phone call for you at the desk."

Sniffing quickly, Olivia moved the chair back to its original position and stood up.

"Thank you," she mumbled, avoiding the woman's eyes.

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Casey drummed her nails against the side of the desk anxiously, wondering if she'd somehow been disconnected. It had taken her almost fifteen minutes just to get through to the hospital line…if she was disconnected now, someone was seriously going to die.

"Hello?"

She jumped in surprise. "Why the hell don't you answer your cell phone?" she asked immediately, recognizing the pissiness in her own voice and not even caring at the moment. "I tried you three different times!"

"I haven't charged it, Casey," Olivia said, automatically defensive. "What's with the attitude?"

Contrite, the attorney bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Olivia," she said, sighing. "I'm a little stressed…I'm sorry."

The detective sighed too. "What's up? Everything okay?"

_Now or never._

"Not exactly," she said hesitantly. "I, um…I met with Judge Verella yesterday afternoon to discuss the proceedings along with the defense." She knew that her voice was shaky despite her effort to keep it steady.

"What happened?" the detective asked instantly.

"Well, right now, he wants to go ahead with the kidnapping charge since it isn't necessary to have Elliot's testimony as long as we've got another witness," she said.

Silence met her ears. Casey bit her lip, not sure what to say.

"Another witness," Olivia repeated, sounding agitated and angry at the same time. More silence. "Meaning me."

"Yes," she replied timidly.

More silence.

"When?" Olivia asked quietly.

She cringed. "The trial is…tomorrow," she said after a minute. "At 11:00…so I'll need you for prep this afternoon."

Silence.

"Tomorrow."

The ice in her friend's voice could be felt all the way through to her toes.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," she said desperately. "The prep -"

"I-I can't," Olivia said slowly. The panic in her voice caught Casey by surprise. "I…I can't leave him, Casey."

She slammed her eyes closed. "I'm sorry," she repeated painfully. "Olivia…there isn't a choice." She grimaced. "If you're not on the stand, the charges will be dropped…and if the kidnapping charge gets dropped, we'll have no legal grounds to pursue the other ones."

She listened to the hard swallowing on the other end of the receiver and closed her eyes again, feeling even worse.

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"Jess, can you take, um, both the Redding and Whitehurst showings this afternoon?" she asked, frazzled. She hurriedly clicked the mouse several times to shut down the computer and opened the bottom desk drawer to retrieve her purse.

The young brunette stared in surprise. "Wh-?" she stammered, taken aback. The older woman moved around in an almost frenzy, slamming the drawer shut and locking it hastily. "Uh…yeah. Sure, Kathy…what's the matter?"

"I have to go to the hospital," Kathy clipped quickly, coming around the desk. She grabbed her coat from the hook on the wall and slid in on. "Something's come up with my husband."

_I thought they were divorced…_Jessica Wagner thought suddenly, turning to watch her.

"Do you need anything?" she asked in concern.

Kathy turned back with her hand on the door handle. Her young colleague looked genuinely worried. A wave of gratitude washed over her.

"No, that's alright," she said tenderly, striding over to Jessica. She rubbed the other woman's shoulder. "Are you sure it's not a problem? I can get someone else to take them…just let me know."

Jessica smiled, shaking her head. "My day's light today," she said matter-of-factly. "I need something to do."

The blonde smiled back. "Thanks, Jess," she said warmly, hurrying to the door. "I owe you."

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His fist was so numb that shards of fire rippled down to his wrist the next time he knocked.

Turning away, Don rubbed both hands together and brought them up to his face, blowing into the cupped palms.

Frustration bubbled up again and he turned back to the door. He pounded the door with new force.

"John, God damn it!" he yelled, stepping to the side of the stoop and trying to peer through the blinded windows on the side of the house. "Just open the door…for God's sake, I'm trying to help you!"

Another rapid series of heavy knocks produced nothing.

Growling, Cragen stormed down the steps towards his car.

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She swallowed hard, cupping her hand across his forehead.

"No," he murmured, his eyes wide with anxiety.

"It's only for a little while," Olivia said desperately. "Just a little while and then I'll be right back here." The tears beginning to build panicked her even more. "And Kathy's on her way…she'll be here any minute. She's going to be here with you the entire time-"

Tears spilled out and he began to sob before she could finish speaking.

"Shh….sh-sh-sh…" She ran her hand over the length of his forehead and back repeatedly, partially blinded by her own tears. Her voice was strained with agony.

"You're going to be fine." Her hands moved to cup his face firmly and she looked lovingly into his eyes, nodding in what she hoped was a convincing manner. "You will…you're going to be fine."

"Don't leave," he pleaded raggedly between each forceful sob. He shook his head and groped across the railing, desperate to cling to her. "Please don't leave."

Hearing slight movement from behind her, she turned. Kathy stepped quietly into the room. Olivia looked at her helplessly before turning back again.

Her heart breaking, she kissed his cheek tenderly and backed away from the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered tearfully to Kathy.

The blonde nodded slightly as she crossed the room. She wrapped him quickly into a hug, bringing her head down to whisper softly to him, but his cries didn't stop.

Olivia was shaking from holding in her tears by the time she made it out the door. Narrowing her eyes intently, she strode briskly toward the nurse's station. 

"Excuse me," she said, flashing her badge. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully, her tone ejecting authority that dared someone to argue. "I want an armed security guard outside of room 420 before I step into that elevator."

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Sensing movement, Fin raised his head to encounter the captain leaning his arm onto his desk and staring at him squarely.

His adrenaline kicked in automatically. He'd been bracing himself for a direct approach since the day Cragen had failed to get him to talk in his office. To be honest, he didn't think he could keep resisting for much longer.

For a minute the two of them stared at each other, almost in a standoff.

The detective raised an eyebrow, but his expression held no contempt this time. "Captain?" he said quietly.

Cragen's expression was different as well. His adrenaline pumped faster when he recognized that.

Something was up.

"They're starting the trial tomorrow," the captain said gravely. He watched the protective look enter the detective's eyes at once. "Casey says that it's just kidnapping charges for now, so Elliot isn't needed…but Olivia has to testify." He paused and continued softly. "It starts at 11:00."

He stared at Fin a moment longer and then walked around the desk. He paused in front of his office door and turned back slightly.

"If you want to come with me," he said softly. "I'm leaving here tomorrow morning at 7:30."

Then he walked into the office and shut the door.

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The key scraped the side of the door in her haste to shove it through the slot. Unlocking it quickly, Elizabeth hurried inside as fast as she could and shut the door tightly behind her.

The house was blissfully warm and she thanked God for old-fashioned fireplaces as she took her coat off, relieved to be out of the freezing afternoon wind.

She hung her pea coat onto a hanger inside the hall closet and closed the door.

"Hello?" she called out experimentally, walking toward the kitchen.

She wasn't expecting a reply. Dickie had ridden the bus home with JB because they had to work on a history project, Maureen was at work until six that night, and Kathleen had said she was going to the practice fields after school…but these days, nothing could really be expected anymore, so she wasn't sure.

Silence was all that greeted her as she looked out into the living room, so she assumed she was the only one there.

The light on the answering machine was blinking. Lizzie pressed it as she walked past the counter to head for the refrigerator.

"Hey, guys," her mother's voice projected into the air. "I'm leaving work early…your dad needs me at the hospital."

Her hand froze halfway through taking out a soda can and she nearly dropped it as she whipped her head back towards the counter. Her heart began to pound fast.

"Don't worry; nothing's wrong," her mother continued quickly, as if she could somehow read her thoughts. "Olivia got called out unexpectedly….I hate to do this to you again, but it looks like you're on your own for dinner because I'm not sure how long she'll be. I'm not sure if I'll be coming home tonight, though, so call me whoever gets this message." Pause. "I love you guys more than you know…talk to you soon."

The message ended and Elizabeth stared at the phone apprehensively.

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Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glossy photos for what seemed like the millionth time. Tired eyes squinted hard in attempt to remain focused, but the gray blurred anyway.

Huffing wearily, Melinda held it up to catch the light and squinted again.

It just doesn't make sense… 

She had gone into her office to retrieve personal effects from the latest arrival that she had placed there and an unfamiliar manila envelope lying on her desk. Upon opening it, she discovered the photographs from Elliot's examination that she had sent to be developed.

Her task instantly forgotten, she had begun examining each one eagerly. Frankly, she was shocked to have gotten them back already. Jack down in the darkroom was definitely going to be getting personal thanks as soon as she tracked him down.

But her initial excitement had given way to overwhelming frustration the longer she sifted through and before she knew it she had dug out the procedure file and begun comparing each element, piece by meticulous piece, to see what corresponding where.

The one she was currently holding was labeled 92304. Her finger was pressed into her report so that she wouldn't lose her place and she looked down again, double-checking that she was indeed on the fourth photograph. According to her handwriting, she was looking at a portion of the epidermis on his back, somewhere in close proximity to the spine.

She was exactly in line- the photograph was the right one.

Frowning deeper, Melinda zeroed in on the image once more.

The markings somewhat resembled small welts. Whatever had caused them had obviously been compact, judging by the number of them scattered along the skin. She wanted to say they were teeth marks, but they almost looked to be too large…

And what the hell were those little dots? Each one had them, a perfectly symmetrical circle of tiny dots surrounding the main welt. Something inanimate had to be the source for them…no way could a human hand, finger, or even nail could be able to create such precise indentations with such a measured distance between each one.

The images began to sway slightly in front of her eyes again and she was forced to look away. Shaking her head in frustration, she laid the photograph down and picked up another.

"You see any keys?" Gary's voice suddenly boomed from the lab down the hall and she jumped violently in shock. "I think they might have been buried by the house somewhere if you ask me, Doc."

Chastising herself angrily, Melinda shoved the photographs back in the envelope and crammed it into the top drawer quickly. Getting up, she went to the file cabinet and focused on the task at hand.

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"Whew," she breathed loudly. Letting the file drop from her hand, Casey flopped down against the pillows. "And we are…done."

Seated at the desk across the room, Olivia didn't reply. She appeared to not even be paying attention.

Frowning, she sat upright again and got serious. "Hey." Her frown deepened in concern. "Hey…"

"What?" Her friend's head snapped back toward her quickly as she pretended not to have been preoccupied. She met Casey's soft gaze for a minute before her eyes darted away. "Oh. Yeah."

The attorney eyed her carefully, reluctantly letting her concerned questions slide.

"Piece of cake," Casey said finally.

She scrutinized the detective again, struggling to hold her eyes. Olivia seemed determined not to look at her.

"So….you're good…?" she checked, just to be sure. "Because we can run it again if you need to."

"No," Olivia said quickly, seeming to snap to attention. "No, that's okay. Thanks…I got it, Casey."

She stood up hesitantly, looking at the attorney in uncertainty like she wasn't sure they were really done. Casey got to her feet as well.

"Ok," she said. "Well, um…" She looked around the room awkwardly, biting her lip. "So, you wanna…maybe go grab something to eat before you go back?"

She looked around again in disdain. She'd had the hotel reserve a conference room for them to use, but frankly was much more inclined to relax their way through the procedure in the room she had been provided. Olivia had agreed almost at once even though Casey had been willing to move downstairs.

Olivia felt her heart jump slightly. "Um, no," she said, a little too fast. She cringed inwardly and looked at her friend apologetically. "I mean…I appreciate it, but I really just should get back to the hospital."

Casey nodded. "That's fine," she assured her. She pursed her lips worriedly and Olivia watched the attorney disappear and become replaced by the friend with concern in her eyes. "Will it be alright if I come by a little later?" She bit her lip nervously. "I…I mean-I really haven't seen him since…"

"Of course," Olivia interrupted her. She looked at her warmly. "Casey, you can come see him any time you'd like. He'll be happy to see you."

_I hope, _she thought guiltily, biting her lip. She wasn't sure what to expect at all.

The relieved smile that graced her friend's face made her feel even guiltier, but thankfully Casey didn't seem to notice.

"Definitely," she said. "I'm just going to finish these up," she gestured to the bed covered in file folders, "but I'll be there soon." She looked at Olivia with conviction. "I'll stop on my way and get us all dinner, too."

"Oh, Casey," she protested immediately. "No…you-"

"And I've got this place for at least the next two days," she went on, totally ignoring the protests. "So you and Kathy are welcome to spend the night whenever you want to…I won' t be here much during the day, but there's plenty of hot water and free cable if you just need to relax."

The rush of emotion swelling in her chest made Olivia blink back tears. She smiled warmly at her friend.

"Thank you, Casey," she said, swallowing hard.

The attorney surprised her when she strode across the floor and swallowed her into a warm hug. The contact was needed and Olivia melted into it gratefully.

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"Hi, you've reached John Munch. Leave a message at the beep."

_Beep._

His ears strained instinctively even though he didn't move from his position.

_Click._

Just as well…he had the phone turned off for a reason.

He wanted everyone to just leave him…the fuck…._alone._

Squirming slightly, he shifted his head further up the cushion and grimaced. He felt absolutely disgusting, and he probably smelled even worse. He was in the same jeans and sweatshirt he had worn home from work three days ago after Cragen had suspended him. The last time he had gotten off of the couch was around noon to go pee. Before that….hell, he didn't even know if he had gotten up at all the day before.

He lifted his watch lazily to his face and squinted at the numbers, his glasses on the table beside his head.

It was dark outside and his stomach was rumbling violently, but he remained sprawled on the couch. The six-pack he'd grabbed on his way back from the bathroom this afternoon was empty, the plastic casing shred all over the floor. He couldn't even remember opening it.

He couldn't remember going to sleep, or waking up, or staring at the chipped white plaster ceiling above the couch. He couldn't remember going to work and wanting to be there.

The only thing he seemed to remember was the nightmares.

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The sky was overcast and he couldn't see the moon tonight as he knelt beside the bed.

Don bowed his head, feeling his chest beginning to shake. He felt moisture creeping past his eyes as he started his nightly prayer.

"Dear God," he said softly. "Thank You for bringing Elliot back to us…thank You. Thank You." He exhaled shakily. "Place Your hand over him, protect him…"

His words began to break and he didn't hold in the tears of pain. He could hold them all day if he had to…but never here. He exhaled again, shifting position slightly as his knees began to slowly numb.

"And be with my squad," he continued quietly. "Comfort Olivia, restore her joy….give Fin strength and reassurance….and please, God…bring John back to us. We need him…Elliot needs him, Lord. Please let him see the pain he's causing."

He took another breath and began winding down.

"Bless Kathy, Maureen, Kathleen, Elizabeth, and Dickie," he said. "Stay by their side…they need You more than any of us. Forgive me for my sinful ways, and keep me strong through the coming times. Amen."

Wiping his face, Don stretched out on the bed and pulled the covers over himself, searching the dark skies for any sign of stars.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Thank you again for all of you still with me…thank you a million times over. **

**I just want to let you all know…Elliot hasn't even really begun his screen time yet. Have faith, there is still a lot coming. I promise the end will justify the means. **

She was jerked rudely out of sleep and even without opening her eyes knew it was not time to be awake. Her eyes cracked open and she was nearly blinded, so exhausted she couldn't even see anything.

Her body sank back into sleep in seconds.

A distressful moan met her ears and made her realize instantly that she hadn't been imagining it.

Straightening, she slid upright wearily and lowered her feet to the floor as she pulled out her cell phone. She squinted at the harsh yellow light that flooded from it immediately and managed to read the numbers.

It was just past three in the morning.

Moving the phone slightly to her left, she saw Olivia dead to the world on the cot nearby. Her head snapped back around when she heard his escalating cries and she shot to her feet.

"Stop…God, stop…._please_!"

Kathy was just barely able to make out his thrashing form as she hurried to the bed. She laid a hand on what she hoped what some part of his face as she fumbled for the lamp above the bed.

"Elliot, hey," she said softly, running her fingers tenderly over smooth skin. Her hand groped quickly around the wall. He whimpered tearfully. "Hey…shh. Wake up."

Dim yellow light flooded her eyes suddenly and she was forced to squeeze them shut for a moment.

"Stop…please, it hurts!" He groaned violently and she felt his face shudder. "Please…please…."

"You're alright," she said, framing his face with her hands. "Elliot, it's me, honey…it's Kathy. Wake up sweetheart...it's just a dream."

Agonized blue eyes met hers for a moment before his face crumbled and he sobbed brokenly.

Overcome with sadness and concern, she moved closer to cradle his head with her arm. "It's alright, baby," she murmured. She stroked through his hair tenderly, taking his hand with her other one. "Relax…relax."

. She leaned down even further and wrapped her arms around him, letting him burrow his face into the crook of her arm.

"It's just a dream," she whispered hoarsely, tears falling down her own face as she rubbed his back slowly. "I'm right here…Olivia's right here...nobody can hurt you. Everything's alright."

After a few more minutes, she reached up to turn the light off. He tensed immediately and his loosening grip immediately got tighter. She waited patiently, rubbing his back and talking softly until he was asleep again.

Sighing softly, she swallowed hard and quietly made her way back to the chair. Stretching back out, she attempted to get somewhat comfortable, but sleep was now gone from her mind.

Across the room, Olivia turned toward the wall to keep Kathy from seeing the tears streaming down her face.

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Carefully cracking the shower curtain open, she ducked around the pulsing spray and reached out to retrieve the shampoo bottle.

Her hand slipped from the curtain and she stumbled, lurching forward. She threw out her arm instinctively to keep her balance and wiped out the entire line of hair products and soap that she had positioned on the side of the tub.

"God _damn_ it!" she yelled, hooking her hand over the temperature valve to keep herself upright.

Pushing the curtain back angrily, she bent over and began picking up the various bottles. The water gushing onto the floor only complicated matters more as a few of the bottles slipped from her grasp several times before she could get a good grip on them.

Squirting a healthy amount of shampoo into her palms, she began scrubbing it into her scalp so furiously that she nearly broke her nails, growling through clenched teeth anxiously.

It was 7:00 in the morning on the first day of her official trial and Casey Novak was a complete wreck.

She'd thought seeing Elliot the day before would be a good idea, would actually help keep her grounded and focused. He had been dead asleep and really looked no different than the last time she had seen him almost two weeks ago, but now that she had the faces of the men accused of putting him there in her memory it was almost too hard to even step foot in the room.

The visit had only served to sharpen the knives of emotion that had been flirting along her gut since she had found out about his return.

This was not a nameless victim. This was a colleague. This was a friend. This….was Elliot.

He had a family who loved him, friends who would die for him, a future bright with potential and possibility. He was wonderful and wholesome, one of the few truly good men she'd had the privilege to encounter in her life. She loved him like he was kin.

This should not have happened to Elliot.

It was a horrible crime to be inflicted on anyone.

But _Elliot_...?

A searing burn of rage had begun creeping up in her stomach during that moment, and remained lodged in her chest now, making her hands shake.

Rubbing conditioner in her hair, she rinsed quickly and turned off the shower. She reached for the towel and wrapped it around herself as she stepped out of the tub.

Today was going to be a day to remember. It was the arguably the most important case of her entire career and it had absolutely nothing to do with her conviction record. Today was her day of reckoning.

She stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection.

This was what her job was all about. This was her chance to show her stuff. Dwight Haskins was going to wish he'd never even heard of Casey Novak.

Her hand continued to shake as she rubbed her hair with the towel.

She was scared.

She was scared as hell.

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He checked his watch one last time as he put on his coat and glanced out the window in disappointment.

The light in his office was the only illumination in the otherwise dark squad room and not a soul was there other than himself.

Sighing and shaking his head sadly, Cragen grabbed up his keys before switching the desk lamp off. He checked that he had left the computer unlocked so that Lieutenant Barry could have access to it while he was gone and then walked out the door, locking it behind him.

His heart was heavy and thumping at the same time as he walked toward the main doors.

There was no turning back now. The start of trial proceedings was going to force them to face everything with no boundaries.

He hoped to God that Olivia, John, and Fin would have the peace of mind to be there.

Of the three of them, he worried most about Olivia's capability to remain objective with the extreme pain and heartache she was suffering over her best friend and John's ability to conquer the darkness that had consumed him. He was a completely different man now and it was terrifying to see.

Fin was struggling quietly, but it was so obvious to Cragen that he may as well have just stuck a neon sign over his head. His intense loyalty to Elliot was blurring his lines of judgment and yet he remained so attached to the other man that he was willing to take the brunt without resistance. It was slowly but surely tearing him apart and he wouldn't be able to handle it much longer.

He opened the doors, his brain automatically churning towards what routes to Buffalo would be the fastest, and almost jumped out of his skin in surprise as he nearly collided with the person standing against the wall.

Fin looked at the captain, half-defeated and half-defensive, but his shoulders were slumped sheepishly. His hands wiggled nervously in the pocket of his coat.

"You mind having a passenger?" he asked quietly, his eyes darting away guiltily.

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Olivia was so shocked when she pulled open the door that she stopped in her tracks.

At 10:40 am, on the third floor of the Buffalo City Courthouse, courtroom number four was so packed that there was hardly any standing room left.

Uniformed officers were lined up along the wooden rows of seats, almost elbow to elbow to make as much room as possible. She was startled as she scanned the rows for a familiar face and didn't find a single one.

Making her way along the back, she headed for the side and took up position next to the wall. Her eyes automatically began taking in the occupants again.

Several rows began discreetly glancing over at her and she tried to appear nonchalant about it. But as it continued, she found herself starting to become unnerved.

"Detective Benson."

Starting, she looked for the source of the voice. A uniformed officer she had never seen before suddenly appeared at her side, lightly gripping her elbow in a non-threatening manner.

"Here," he went on, subtly tugging her arm forward. He gestured toward the bench nearest to her and she noticed a glaringly empty spot that hadn't been there before. "Take my seat."

Still trying to process how this officer knew who she was, Olivia blinked dumbly and stammered, "No, I'm fine, really. You don't have-"

"Please," he insisted, his expression kind as he looked at her. "It's no trouble."

The other men in the bench were nudging each other to make room, nodding at her quickly. Slipping robotically into the offered spot, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously up at the officer.

"I'm sorry….do I know you?" she asked.

"Sergeant Ben Rogers," he introduced, offering his hand to her. "Mounted Patrol." She shook his hand graciously. "I just want you to know that my entire unit is behind you and your partner. What those bastards did to him is despicable. No matter what happens today….we've got your backs."

She was so stunned that she couldn't speak.

"That…that means a lot to me," she stammered after a moment, blinking in amazement. "Thank you."

The men along her other side all echoed the sentiment as well, all from various units nowhere even near Manhattan. Their compassion absolutely blew her away.

People continued to trickle in intermittently. At about ten minutes till, the doors opened again and the sound of clicking heels echoed into the room loudly. Heads naturally turned toward the obtrusive noise and several postures became noticeably straighter as Casey made her way down the middle aisle.

As she craned her neck to get a glimpse, Olivia suddenly noticed Cragen and Fin sitting on the opposite end of the courtroom. The sight of them was comforting and yet made her anxiety level skyrocket. Continuing down the rows, she realized that almost the entire sixteenth precinct was in attendance, along with Melinda Warner sitting near the middle.

Her heart began to beat in her throat. She had been so preoccupied with her own personal involvement in having her best friend victimized that she hadn't even given a thought to how much the society she knew was affected. Seeing the turnout for what wasn't even the main conviction charge made it hit home hard.

This wasn't just about Elliot Stabler anymore. This was a blow to the entire police department for the state of New York…the notion that brothers in blue took care of their own was embodied right here before her eyes.

"Docket number 10-2343, People v. Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas, and Jeffrey Pendleton. One count kidnapping in the first degree."

The voice of the bailiff booming made her start in surprise and Olivia turned her focus toward the front. She was startled to see that the seven defendants and their attorney were now sitting around the table.

"All rise," the bailiff continued boisterously. She numbly got to her feet with everyone else and watched the distinguished older man come in from the side door. "The honorable judge Warren L. Verella presiding."

Judge Verella approached the bench and seated himself, arranging papers within reach and putting his glasses on.

The bailiff instructed everyone to be seated and declared court in session.

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Anxiety, helplessness, and despair warred for control as she sat next to the bed. Her hand was lying loosely over his and she could feel the muscles contracting, as if he was preparing to move it at any moment.

"Don't, Kath," he whispered tearfully, gulping. The tears continued their steady stream down his face. "I'm dirty. I'm so dirty."

Her throat closed again and the tightness in her chest came back for a moment, panicking her for a moment as she couldn't breathe.

Blinking to dislodge the tears from her eyelashes, Kathy swallowed and squeezed his fingers.

"Oh, baby," she said sadly, biting her lip. "Maybe in a few days, we can ask the doctor if it's alright for you to take a shower."

He shook his head violently all of the sudden and she was startled when his breathing began to become rapid.

"What….what is it?" she asked in alarm, getting to her feet. "What's the matter?"

"No….no showers," he said thickly, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing as he choked. "I don't want to take a shower." He started to sob. "Please, Kath….I don't want to get in the shower."

Kathy was horrified and shocked.

"Okay…honey, relax," she said, frightened. She reached up to stroke his hair. "Elliot, you don't have to take a shower, sweetheart. I just thought you wanted to, that's all…you don't have to."

She attempted to hug him only to have him move away. His hand moved out of her reach and he turned to face the wall, still sobbing.

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"Ms. Novak."

Her head snapped up quickly and she tried to appear like she wasn't distracted. The judge gestured to her.

"Do you have any opening statements?" he continued.

Compulsively smoothing her blazer, Casey cleared her throat. "No, your Honor," she projected with practiced confidence.

He nodded. "You may call your first witness."

"People call Detective Olivia Benson," she said, turning toward the crowd.

There was a short period of audible noise as people swiveled around in their seats to look, including many of the defendants. Dwight Haskins did not raise his eyes from his papers.

She watched as the detective stepped into the box and the bailiff came to stand in front of it.

"Raise your right hand," he instructed. She did. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," Olivia said clearly.

"Be seated," he said quickly, nearly cutting her off.

Casey met her friend's eyes as the bailiff stepped away. Olivia smirked ever so slightly in sarcasm and though she kept her face composed, the attorney allowed the amusement to gleam in her eyes. The detective had griped passionately the day before about how she loathed having to listen to the robotic prattle of the bailiff after so many trials in her career.

Coming around the table, she moved to stand before the witness box.

"Please tell the court your relationship with the victim, Detective Elliot Stabler," she began.

"He's my partner," she replied.

"How long have you worked together?" Casey continued.

Olivia's eyes gleamed slightly. "Eight years."

"On the day Detective Stabler was kidnapped, were you together?" she asked.

"Objection!"

The stern voice of Haskins behind her made Casey jump slightly in surprise. She turned toward the judge and tried not to display her annoyance.

"The charge against my clients has not been proven," he said. "The reason we're even standing here now is to try to discern exactly what happened."

_Oh, for Christ's sake_, Olivia thought angrily. Clenching her teeth, she looked at her lap to avoid opening her mouth. Being charged for contempt wouldn't do a whole heck of a lot in her partner's defense.

Judge Verella nodded. "Sustained," he said. "Rephrase or move on, Ms. Novak."

Casey made sure she was turned away from the judge before rolling her eyes toward Olivia. She glanced down at her notes.

"This is time log provided by the precinct where both Detectives Benson and Stabler are currently employed," she said, displaying it for the jury's benefit. "Would you please tell the court the activity documented for Tuesday, November 14?"

She walked over to Olivia to show her the document, even though they both knew it by heart.

"We received a phone call about a body found in a warehouse in Queens," she said. "The description was consistent with the case we were currently working on."

Casey nodded. "Describe the call," she said thoughtfully.

Olivia furrowed her brow a moment. "I was the first to pick up the phone," she began. "The caller identified himself as a police officer from Queens and asked to speak with a detective named Elliot."

"Did he specify first or last name?" Casey threw in as an ad-lib. She could almost feel the objection on the defense attorney's lips and was quick to beat him to the punch.

"Um, no," she said. "But since my partner's first name is Elliot and he has spent a significant portion of his career working out of Queens, I assumed the call to be for him."

Casey nodded. "What happened next?"

"We drove out to the warehouse and found no other officers on scene," she continued. "My partner began calling to confirm the location and we suddenly heard shots being fired from inside the building. We went inside and split up to look around…"

_She scanned left and right, her weapon raised defensively. Elliot mirrored her movements from beside her, their steps in synch and soundless._

_Stepping into a broad, open area, they moved further apart to search each side. _

_Something caught the corner of her eye and she turned to see a staircase along the back wall. Her adrenaline kicked and she strode toward it, signaling Elliot that she was going up. He nodded and ventured into one of the rooms._

Shaking herself, she kept going.

"There was a set of stairs near the back and I went up," she said. "As I approached the landing of the second floor, I heard a loud squealing noise, like tires."

_She jumped over the last few steps to the ground and looked around frantically. Her heart caught in her throat at the sight of him on the ground and she hurried to help him._

"Detective?"

Casey's gentle urging startled her into the realization that she had zoned out again. Clenching her teeth in frustration, she scooted forward and tried to focus.

"When I got downstairs, someone rushed me from behind and knocked my gun out of my hand. I was dragged to the stairwell and handcuffed while five men surrounded my partner, who at this moment was on the ground. They forced him to stand and dragged him to a van that was near the entrance."

"Did you recognize any of these men?" Casey asked.

"No, I didn't," she replied.

The attorney paused. "How did you get free, Detective?"

_Her heart felt like it was coming out of her chest. _

_**Dear God, what are they doing to him? What could they be doing to him?**_

"A pair of detectives had been dispatched shortly after we arrived," she answered. "They arrived about twenty minutes after my partner was grabbed."

There was a momentary pause and Olivia was surprised when Casey didn't immediately continue her questions as they practiced.

She chewed on her lip for a brief moment before nodding. "Thank you, Detective," she said finally, ignoring the confused look on the other woman's face. "No further questions."

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The house was blissfully quiet and though she had been tempted before to turn on the radio, she decided to just leave it silent. She was almost sick of hearing Christmas songs by this point.

Laying the box down in the middle of paper, Maureen cut carefully along the edge and set aside the roll. She folded the ends down neatly and tucked the excess to make a perfect cover of wrapping over one side.

Wrapping presents had always been a compulsion of hers that she never could quite explain. Whatever the reason, she was very picky about her packages…each one had to be measured and tucked precisely for the smoothest result possible. Her favorite part was the ribbon…she once used up an entire roll of mint green silk on one enormously ornate bow for a present she had given one of her junior-high school boyfriends.

Her mother had been quite upset with her for that, but it was her fault for passing the gene- every present her mother ever wrapped looked as if it had been done professionally.

She smirked, rolling up the other side. It certainly hadn't come from her father's side of the pool; that was for sure.

The smirk became a chuckle.

He always seemed to measure the paper to be too short for the box, but instead of starting over he would make sure the top portion visible under the tree was covered and leave the bottom completely bare thinking that no one would ever notice.

Actually, now that she thought about it, maybe _he_ was the one with the neurosis.

A few days after Easter, when she was about nine, she had lifted the chocolate bunny from her basket about to take a bite and discovered it had been eaten from the bottom all the way to the backside- completely hollowed out. Her dad finally admitted that he had taken to nibbling off a small chunk every time he passed the basket, saying he couldn't resist. He claimed to have no idea he had eaten so much of it….but apparently, he was still in a right enough mind to turn the bunny outward so that she wouldn't notice.

_God, I love that man._

Her hand stilled on the bottom of the box as her fingers began to tremble.

She would give her most prized possession to see a hundred bare-bottomed presents sitting under that tree right now.

She would sacrifice everything she owned just to eat one chocolate bunny with a hollow backside.

Biting her lip, Maureen gazed out the window at the crisp morning.

Holidays had become awkward after her parents had separated, but they were managing to adjust.

Christmas this year would never be able to be adjusted to.

Or forgotten.

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"Detective Benson."

Dwight Haskins strode toward the box almost the moment Casey was in her seat. His legs ambled with measured strides and the look on his face hinted at smug.

She knew instantly that this was not going to be pleasant.

He continued up to her and cocked his head slightly, looking as relaxed as could be in his Armani suit and perfectly gelled blonde hair. Pausing a moment, he pursed his lips ever so slightly before speaking.

"You said that you assumed the call to be for your partner," he said. "So, you turned the phone over to him?"

She looked directly into his steely green eyes with authority. "I did."

"You never actually heard the conversation taking place on the other end." It was not a question and she decided she could start to loathe him.

"That's correct," she answered without hesitation.

Something flashed in his eyes, but it was so quick that she didn't know if she was seeing things or not.

"So for all you know," he challenged testily. "The call could have had absolutely nothing to do with the case in which you were currently investigating."

_God damn him. _ Casey wanted to rip her hair out.

"My partner has never once lied to me," Olivia said edgily. The ice in her voice could have knocked the man over where he stood. "There was never a doubt that he was not relaying the information exactly as it had been given to him."

"Right," Haskins said snidely. Before Casey could call out any objections, he was already moving on. "Were you able to see the ground floor of the warehouse as you were ascending the staircase?"

She paused, wanting to clench her teeth. "No," she said. "It was evening and the building was not well-lit…all I saw around the stairs was the wall beside them."

"And you came back down after hearing….tires squealing, did you say?"

"Yes," she answered.

"This fall has been abnormally windy compared to last year," Haskins said, projecting his voice almost theatrically as he turned toward the jury for a moment. "On November 14, the day in question, the weather report indicated 'heavy wind' around the area."

He turned back to Olivia. "Are you positive the sound you heard was caused by tires?"

"I am as certain as realistically possible," she said, refusing to be baited.

"The address for the warehouse is in a dilapidated area," he went on. "Run-down, poorly maintained…so I imagine a lot of pipe damage and broken foundations." His eyes narrowed slightly to fix on hers. "Could it be possible, Detective Benson, that heavy wind blowing through a cracked window frame could have produced a similar sound as the one you described?"

"The van was parked and running," Olivia said sarcastically. "It wasn't there when we arrived and I'm pretty sure it didn't teleport into the warehouse."

"But given the weather and the condition of the building," he persisted relentlessly. "Do you agree it is possible that the sound could have been _something other than tires_?"

"Yes," she spat out angrily, wanting to strangle him. "It's possible."

He nodded sagely. "You said that your partner was on the ground with no weapon," he continued. He narrowed his eyes again. "How many men were around him?"

She paused a moment. "Five."

"Detective Benson, how many men are sitting at the defense table at the moment?" he said edgily.

Olivia clenched her teeth slightly. "Seven."

"Uh-huh," Haskins said absently. "Did you see any of the men's faces?"

"No," she said.

"You didn't see any of their faces."

"No," she repeated testily.

He cocked his head slightly. "Detective, based on what you saw of the assailants, could you identify any of them if you saw them again right now?"

Her heart was beating almost out of her chest and she had to take a deep breath through her nose to keep from snapping. "No," she said reluctantly. "I could not."

He smiled slightly, obviously pleased. "Then _why_ are we here?" he asked in exasperation.

"Objection!" Casey called out angrily.

"Withdrawn," he said smoothly and turned back to his table to retrieve a piece of paper.

"You stated to officers on-scene that you were able to identify three figures of the van's license plate," he said, glancing down. "Could you recall them for me, please?"

She had to stop to think a moment. "J-Y-B," she said.

"Are you positive?" he said.

"Yes," she said. "Positive."

He retrieved another paper. "This is the title to a 1980 Dodge Ram van owned by one of the defendants," he said. He did not name who. Striding over to her again, he held the paper out. "Detective, will you read the first three figures of the license number?"

Olivia stared at the paper and didn't respond. Her face was tight and her eyes were flashing with rage.

"Detective?"

"U-Y-8," she said harshly.

She glared at him when he pulled the paper away. He smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you," he said. "No further questions."

"You may step down, Detective," Judge Verella said.

Her knees were shaking as she got to her feet.

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Casey promptly called her next witness, Captain Will Butler of the Queens County Police Department, to confirm that the call made to the 16th precinct on November 14th had not been made by his squad and that no activity had been reported at 1723 East 22nd Avenue.

Haskins had no questions for the Chief and Casey had no more witnesses. Judge Verella dismissed the jury and adjourned court to give them time to deliberate.

Cragen jumped up at once and headed for the restroom. Fin leaned back to chat with a detective from the squad, trying to release the tension in his shoulder blades.

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Olivia pulled on her coat as she descended the stairs. She had warned Casey that she would be going straight back to the hospital the moment her testimony was done. The attorney had no problems with it and said she would stop by after court to let her know how it went.

She smiled as she pulled open the main doors, despite the bitter chill that whipped around her. She was looking forward to that guilty verdict.

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Two hours later, the court room was full again.

Don sat nervously as they waited for the jury to arrive. A long deliberation usually meant a tough decision, a short deliberation an easy one…at least in his experience. They were somewhere in the middle and he didn't like knowing that.

The prosecution table looked ridiculously lonely with Casey sorting through papers by herself beside the defense table, packed with chairs and bodies.

Fin was busy talking to one of the members of their squad sitting behind them, so Don just sat quietly with no way to relieve the anxiety.

After about twenty minutes with still no sign of the jury, he stretched his arms behind the bench, leaning back to lessen the pressure to his spine, and glanced at the other side of the room.

He nearly fell out of the seat in surprise when he recognized a man standing near the back, partially hidden by the crowd and making no effort to be a part.

It was John Munch.


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**My dates are wrong. I wrote in the last chapter that Elliot was taken on November 14th when actually, if you recall in earlier chapters, it was the 2nd. Sorry…again. **

**By the way…..it's my birthday today, the big 2-0!!! Can I wish to receive as many reviews as I am years old? We'll see, huh:-) **

The room was quiet and though her book was waiting beside her in the chair, Olivia hadn't even picked it up.

It had been nearly four hours now since she had come back from court and she was on puns and needles. There was no way she would be able to concentrate enough to get back into the novel.

Casey should have been there by now…what could be taking so long?

What if the jury didn't convict?

What if those animals went free?

She knew it was irrational to be having these thoughts, especially while she was here. Elliot was her only concern and he deserved to be. But for as much as she tried, the what-ifs were always in the back of her mind, refusing to go away.

The soft whimper that cut through the quiet penetrated her deep thoughts and for a moment she sat still in confusion. Shaking herself, she got to her feet and stepped toward the bed.

He was shaking hard, the blankets quivering over top of him, and tears were seeping slowly out of his eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, coming up beside him. She hesitated a moment before brushing gently through the hair at the base of his temple. "What's the matter, honey?"

He only shook his head, turning his head away from her. His chest quivered and he started to sob. Her stomach began to hollow as she recalled what Kathy had told her of her experience with him that morning before she had left.

She leaned over and wrapped both arms around him, pulling him close. He strained to pull away from her but was too tired to put forth the effort. His sobs became almost hysterical as he choked on the tears and hiccupped in breaths. Finally, she felt his uninjured hand lock around her back and she knew he had given up.

Rocking him back and forth, Olivia desperately tried to think of some way to take his mind off of the current situation.

"Kathy wants to bring your kids back tonight," she said softly, as she stroked his hair rhythmically. "Would you like that, Elliot?"

She got nothing other than gulps and sniffles. He mumbled something she didn't understand, his eyes drooping rapidly.

She grimaced sympathetically. "She told me you had a rough morning," she said. "You must be exhausted."

He sniffled again and shook his head, but his body betrayed him. Olivia felt him shutting down almost before the words even left her mouth. Very carefully, she began inching him back towards the pillows.

His head drooped slightly as she settled him back once more, tired eyes closing wearily. She took his hand in hers gently and brushed his forehead.

"Where's your rabbit?" she asked tenderly.

The stuffed animal given to him by his daughter had become a constant presence in his bed. It warmed and broke her heart every time she saw him reaching for it.

He mumbled lowly and lifted a droopy hand towards the wall, sighing as sleep began taking over. She leaned slightly over him to discover the large plush hedged almost between the wall and the bed.

Picking it up with both hands, Olivia tenderly placed it down into the crook of his uninjured arm and moved it so that he felt it with his hand.

The sight of his fingers curling automatically around the fur made tears swim in her eyes and she nearly choked.

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Switching the light on with a tired sigh, Melinda crossed the office to the bookshelf. She thumbed through the alphabetized index of medical journals robotically until she found the one she was looking for.

"Thanks," Gary said, as she came back and passed it to him. The young man looked at her hesitantly. "I'll…I'll have this back to you in about an hour."

"No, don't worry about it," she said wearily, brushing her hands through her hair. "Whenever you get a chance is fine."

He looked at her again in uncertainty, like he was unsure of himself. "Are you feeling okay, Doc?" he finally asked.

"Have you gotten any files for PERK number 923 yet?" she asked, avoiding his question.

Startled, the young man shook his head. "No," he said. "Not yet."

Shaking her head, Melinda brushed past him and walked out of the office, leaving Gary to let himself out.

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_Smack!_

The soccer ball slammed hard against the brick siding and flew back towards her again.

"Who the hell cares about Regionals anyways?" she muttered angrily, rearing her foot back hard.

_Smack!_

"Nobody important ever goes to those things." Her breath rapidly increased with her fury, coming in rapid puffs of cold air.

_Smack!_

She clenched her teeth. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

_Smack_!

"Taking…

_Smack!_

My…

_Smack!_

_Smack! Smack! Smack!_

In a sudden burst of rage, Kathleen began screaming as she slammed the ball against the house over and over again.

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"Casey!"

She turned sharply at his third call and he slowed in relief. The attorney looked distressed and pissed, but she stood still and allowed the detective to catch up to her.

"Listen, I-" he began.

"Fin," she interrupted, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. "I'm headed to the judge's chambers- I should have been there five minutes ago. I promise I'll-"

"What are we going to do?" he asked point-blank, looking at her in dead seriousness. "Tell me what we have to do, Casey."

Scuffling feet made her turn her head anxiously in the direction she had been heading.

"Get his statement," she said, shifting her briefcase on her shoulder. She shook her head angrily, beginning to walk again as she talked. "I've got no choice…we can't wait any more. Get his statement or it's done."

She was walking away too quickly for him to reply. He watched her go with a frustrated sigh and turned around again.

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The vibration against her hip startled her concentration from the book and she jumped reflexively.

Setting the book beside her, Olivia stood up and fumbled through her pocket for the phone. She had programmed it to go straight to the voicemail during court and had forgotten to reset it.

Flipping it open, she keyed in the code and held it to her ear as she looked at the bed. Elliot had exhausted himself after about ten minutes and had dropped off to sleep right in her arms. He hadn't budged in nearly an hour.

"Olivia, its Captain Cragen," the caller said. Her eyebrows jumped suspiciously. "I need for you to call me as soon as you can. We have some things we need to talk about."

Her heart began beating faster. This couldn't be good.

She made it through three numbers and was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. Setting the phone aside, she got to her feet quickly and went to it.

Casey stood in the hallway, wearing her coat. Olivia's heart jumped upon seeing her, the adrenaline kicking back in.

"Hey," she said softly, for Elliot's benefit. She stepped aside. "Come in."

She was surprised when her friend shook her head, biting her lip, and stepped further back. "Actually, um…" she hedged. "Would you mind if we talked out here?"

"Uh…sure," she said, puzzled.

She looked back to the bed in hesitation and then decided to prop the door open with the trash can. When she walked out into the hall, she saw Casey leaning against the wall beside the door frame.

"Rough day?" Olivia said sympathetically, noticing how worn out the attorney looked. "You look beat."

Casey scoffed tiredly. "You don't know the half of it," she said empathetically, shaking her head.

She smiled understandingly. "Well, look on the bright side," she said. "At least you've got one less conviction to worry about."

The look of dread that passed over Casey's face sent Olivia's blood draining straight to her feet.

"Casey," she said slowly. She paused, her heart beginning to beat harder. "I don't like that look."

"I didn't get a conviction, Olivia," she said quietly. "The jury voted not guilty."

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"Hey."

The pleasant greeting made her jump as she was walking toward the stairs. Kathy was surprised to see her youngest daughter in the kitchen, cutting up a green pepper at the counter.

"Liz," she said, switching directions and heading toward her. She gathered her daughter into a tight hug and looked at her quizzically, watching her work. "What are you doing?"

"Maur wants tacos for dinner," she said. "She went to the store to get shells, but we've got everything else here. She said if we wanted any vegetables, we'd have to cut them ourselves because she wasn't going to touch them." She shook her head in mock annoyance. "She's such a baby."

Kathy laughed. All of her kids loved vegetables except Maureen. No one ever figured out why, although she suspected it could have come from her father. He could be amazingly finicky about food when he wanted to be.

"What else needs to be done?" she asked, looking around the kitchen. "Have you browned the meat yet?"

"No," Liz answered, concentrating on her cutting again. "I was going to wait until Maureen got back to start that."

Kathy nodded uncomfortably and leaned against the counter. She was still not quite used to the way her children were taking care of things that used to be her responsibility. "Where's your brother?"

"Upstairs," she answered without looking up.

She wandered over to the dining room table, where the mail was lying in a pile. She picked it up and began rifling through it.

"We're going to see Dad tonight, right?" Liz asked, looking at her eagerly.

"Mm-hmm," she responded, placing the mail into piles.

Cox Telephone bill…hers. Verizon bill…hers. Letter from New York University…Maureen. _Cosmopolitan _magazine…Kathleen. Letter from Westmoreland High School…addressed to her.

That was odd. She picked it up and began to open it as Liz began saying something else.

Her daughter's voice faded into the background as Kathy began reading the letter with an official school seal.

_What the hell…?_

Anger began building fast and she narrowed her eyes, scanning to the very bottom.

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She had never seen smoke come out of a person's ears before…she knew it wasn't physically possible.

Looking at Olivia's face made her start to second-guess herself.

The detective took a deep breath, making a physical effort not to explode. "How is that possible, Casey?" she asked. "With all of our testimonies…" She shook her head in disbelief. "How could any jury be that heartless?"

Casey braced herself.

"Well…Olivia," she said hesitantly, biting her lip. "Things, uh…things didn't go exactly as we originally planned."

The detective looked at her warily. "What do you mean?"

"I couldn't call any one else to testify except for you and the captain from Queens," she said.

Her jaw dropped in utter shock. "You…" she stuttered incredulously. She shook her head as if to clear it. "You're joking." When there was no response, Olivia's eyebrows jumped desperately. "Tell me you're joking."

The attorney shook her head contritely, her expression remorseful. The detective made a strangled whimpering noise that conveyed her shock and panic.

"Casey….the rest of the squad…" she said in disbelief. "The…the officers who helped us rescue him…."

"I had no legal grounds," she said. "The case at hand was only to prove the actual _abduction_…giving testimony about anything else would be grounds for a mistrial since it presents the possibility of prejudice against the defendants."

Olivia's eyes widened. "Casey, he was _tied to a pier_… in the middle of December!" she said angrily. "He nearly froze to death! How in the hell would that be considered '_prejudice_'?" She was nearly shouting at her now.

Casey looked at her calmly, prepared to ride out the angry storm, but still not liking having to do it.

"It's not-" she began.

"No!" the detective cried, interrupting her. Her face was twisted in anger. "Jesus Christ, Casey!" She was starting to get dizzy. "You said yesterday that without the kidnapping charge there were no grounds to pursue the rape. So now they're just going to walk with nothing?"

She was so upset that she was nearly crying. "What about the hell they put him through? He's never going to be the same because of these bastards…and you thought it wouldn't be _relevant _to present testimony backing that up?"

Casey swallowed hard, taken aback at the absolute hatred that dripped from her friend's voice. She narrowed her eyes and held up her hand.

"Olivia," she said in a low voice. "You need to calm down so I can explain it to you…this is exactly what we need to happen right now."

The detective's eyes flashed again and it took all of her energy to hold her tongue. She bit her lip so hard that it began to turn white, but nodded slightly to allow the other woman to speak.

"A kidnapping charge has every legal possibility of being proven through witness testimony," Casey began. "But you and I both know that the odds of that actually happening is slim."

Her face softened in compassion. "Elliot is still the main focus, Olivia…he always will be, no matter what kind of shit Dwight Haskins tries to pull."

Olivia had been taking several deep breaths while the attorney was talking. The panicked tightness in her chest hadn't eased.

"The reason it took me so long to get here is because I filed for an appeal immediately following the trial," she went on. "It's not just the defense who has the right to a fair trial…the fact that Elliot is still here in this hospital proves the very point of why he isn't getting his. We haven't been able to obtain a statement from him and without knowing his side it is impossible for a jury to make any kind of decision."

A faint spark of hope stirred in Olivia's heart but she was hesitant. "So…what does that mean for us?"

"Since he is still physically indisposed, the defense is still a proven flight risk," Casey said. "Judge Verella granted us permission for a new trial after the Christmas holidays and ordered them all to remain in custody until then. That's both a good and a bad thing for us, unfortunately."

At Olivia's questioning look, she clarified, "I've already got plenty of physical evidence from the crime scene, and Doctor Warner is putting a rush on the rape kit. Combined with his statement, we'll have enough to pursue the assault charges since they are of a more serious nature. In doing so, we'll be able to prove the kidnapping as well and be able to add those charges to the overall conviction."

The detective's mind immediately filled in the rest.

"But it's bad because now we have to get a statement before then," she said gravely. "He'll be forced to relive everything they did to him to us and in open court."

She felt like she was having a stake driven into her heart.

_How can I put him through that? How will I be able to stand and listen to him talk about being violated and tortured when it's my fault it happened in the first place?_

Casey nodded slowly. "Right," she said heavily, pursing her lips sadly.

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_Not guilty_.

_Not guilty._

The two words get ringing in his ears, over and over again.

The jury voted seven of the most vile scumbags he had ever had the chance to encounter not guilty after they had kidnapped and tortured one of his dearest friends.

God bless America.

John realized then that he was pressing the pedal down heavily and was going nearly 80 miles an hour. Clenching his teeth, he took his foot off of the gas quickly to slow down.

_Guilty._

_Guilty._

The word vibrated in his nightmares at night, tormented his every thought during the day.

He was guilty. He was the one responsible for getting Elliot targeted in the first place; he was the one who hadn't set foot in the hospital to see him one single time since he first arrived. He was the one suspended for breaking the law.

With friends like him, Elliot didn't need enemies.

The pain that had begun assaulting his sinus cavities as he was fleeing the courthouse was now creating a lovely throbbing sensation over his entire face.

_I need a rendezvous with aspirin and Jack Daniels._

His stomach gurgled as he turned onto his street and John realized that he hadn't eaten all day. He quickly amended his previous thought.

_First a date with Mickey D…**then **a rendezvous with aspirin and Jack Daniels._

Deciding to turn around and head back towards the McDonalds up the road, he began slowing towards the closest driveway a few houses away and suddenly saw a car parked in his.

Suspicion and caution overrode his appetite as his cop sense kicked in. Continuing up the street, he pulled his car parallel behind the other one, blocking its exit path. He reached for his gun on instinct as he stepped out.

The realization that he no longer had it hit him at the same time as the recognition of the vehicle. Anger washed over him instantly and he began making his way back inside the car again.

"Don't even try it, John," the captain said gruffly, his voice sounding pissed as he suddenly appeared beside the passenger window.

Scowling, John glared at him, making no move to get out.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

Cragen narrowed his eyes authoritatively, not the least bit intimidated. "Answers, John," he said. "I want answers…I'll sit here all night if that's what it takes."

His scowl deepened. "Have fun, then," he said snidely, stepping out onto the concrete swiftly. "Don't catch a cold."

"What the hell are you all hiding from, huh?" Don yelled as the detective walked away from him and toward his house. "You won't tell me what happened….Fin won't tell me what happened…Briscoe and Kessler won't tell me what happened…" He threw his hands in the air. "Who are you trying to protect, John?"

"Myself," John snapped, turning halfway towards him. "I'm trying to protect myself from fuckers like Evans who think they can say whatever the hell they want and get away with it." He began walking angrily again.

"That's bull," the captain challenged, his own anger building. "You feel guilty because you couldn't protect Elliot and you're trying to hide it by acting like a god damned one man recon team."

John stopped dead in his tracks and clenched his fists. He turned around completely then and the anger that twisted his face made him seem like a different person.

"We all feel that way, John," Cragen went on quickly, before the man could say anything. "Every one of us, myself included. But trying to get back at the ones who hurt him isn't going to do anything."

"It sure as hell would make me feel a lot better," he growled.

"Well, that's nice," Cragen said dryly, surprising John with his harsh sarcasm. "That's great, John. I guess the squad means nothing to you then? After all these years, you just have no problem letting three of your fellow cops take the fall for your fuck-up?"

"**_We don't have a squad anymore_**!" John bellowed, enraged. His long legs ate up the distance into the older man's personal space in what seemed like milliseconds.

Shocked by the angry outburst, Don stood frozen and said nothing.

The detective swallowed hard, shaking with his rage. "Did you guys have a big party taking everyone's badges and guns, Captain?" His voice was venomous and mocking. "Is that your way of making the hurt go away?"

"No one would come forward about what happened!" Cragen snapped. "What the hell did you expect, for Christ's sake?"

"Some god damned _support_ from my captain, that's what I expected!" he yelled back. He became aware for the first time that they were now standing toe to toe.

"I've got plenty of support, John," the captain snarled, his face red. "It just all happens to be with my detective in the Intensive Care Unit at Buffalo Mercy General **Hospital**!"

His sentence ended in a furious, painful scream of anger and John felt like a brick had slammed square into his stomach. He swallowed hard against the tears he felt soaring up from his chest and blinked rapidly, looking everywhere but at the man in front of him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The radio blared loudly and he jumped violently, eyes flying open. He quickly got up and walked across the room to shut off the alarm.

Groaning when he saw that it was only 7:30 in the morning, Dickie shuffled back towards his bed and desperately curled up under the warm covers.

He had never in his life been able to go back to sleep after being woken up and he knew it. He could already feel his brain surging, anxious to get up and start getting things done.

_You don't **have** anything to do…it's Christmas vacation, dipshit! **Sleep**!_

It was fruitless. After about five minutes of turning back and forth to find a comfortable position for his head on the pillow, he growled in defeat and pushed the covers back,

He crossed the room and sat down at his desk, opening up his laptop computer. At least it wasn't sunny outside today…he was in no mood.

Christmas Eve 2005 had consisted of lounging around in bed, hanging out with his friends, and secretly listening to carols on his Walk-man even though he told everyone they were dumb. The giddy feeling of anticipation he always felt as he thought of the next morning was still the same as it was when he was five….not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

He never would have dreamed he'd see the day when he wished Christmas wouldn't come. But as he sat tiredly waiting for his laptop to boot up on Christmas Eve 2006, he was doing exactly that.

His dad had been missing for approximately three weeks when his mom had set up the Christmas tree and he had been angry. The day he saw his mom setting wrapped gifts under it, he had been furious. He knew his sisters had been subtly adding to the pile as well.

He just couldn't believe it…it made him absolutely _sick_.

Did they honestly believe that they could fake normalcy? Were they honestly expecting everyone to open up presents and eat on fine china like nothing had ever happened?

They were going back to the hospital tonight. He had blown off going with them for almost two whole weeks, but tonight….. he couldn't. He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Swallowing hard, he tried to push the thoughts out of his mind and quickly logged onto the internet.

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The plastic cup had barely hit the side of the table and she was on her feet.

"Here," she said, reaching for it. "You want some more?"

Before he even answered, Olivia had taken the cup and dipped into the cooler, scooping up another full serving of small ice cubes.

The sight of Elliot sitting up without the support of the raised bed behind him was perhaps the most wonderful thing she had ever seen in her life. He had been sucking down ice chips like there was no tomorrow practically all day.

The nurse had been kind enough to bring a small cooler just for his own personal use, a move so thoughtful that Olivia had made sure to remember her name so that she could thank her personally later.

He reached his hand out and she held on until she felt him taking it from her. Even then, anxiety made her watch carefully, ready to jump in case he couldn't hold it. The first time, she hadn't realized that he was shaky gripping the cup and had let go before he had control of it. The cup had dropped like a stone and ice spilled all over him.

But instead of moving it toward his mouth, Elliot placed the cup back on the table beside him still completely full.

She grimaced sympathetically. "Getting full?"

His eyes met hers so quickly that it startled her and she was surprised to see the look of absolute darkness on his face.

"I want to go home, Olivia," he said softly, his voice flat. He blinked slowly, appearing drained, and shook his head. "I just want to get out of here."

She felt the wind rush from her stomach.

"When can I get out of here?" His voice was pleading, bordering on tearful, and it broke her heart.

She had no idea what to say.

_How can I tell him the truth?_

_How can I tell him about the way those men have damaged him so much that he probably will never be able to go the bathroom normally again? _

_How can I tell him about how sometime in the next week or so he is going to be forced to talk about every little thing that had happened to him?_

She couldn't.

So she did the only thing she could think to do.

"Soon, baby," she said, forcing a smile. She swallowed hard, her voice shaking slightly. "Not too much longer."

The look of satisfaction that crossed his face undid her. He closed his eyes and she stood up quickly, turning toward the door as the tears began streaming down her face.


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the birthday wishes. I didn't get my twenty reviews …but that's okay. I'll take loyal readers any day, so thanks a million to all of you. You help keep the passion alive.**

He sighed heavily and put the pen down, scooting away from the desk restlessly.

The brightly lit up buildings across the street gleamed cheerfully through the large window on the other side of the room and he was forced to stare at them every time he lifted his head.

He didn't even know why he was sitting alone in the squad room at 10:30 at night on Christmas Eve. There were certainly better things he could be doing with his time.

_Ha…like what?_

_Sitting at home thinking about Elliot in the hospital for Christmas?_

_Visiting the son who might as well be a stranger sharing your DNA?_

_Spending time with the partner you still want to smack some sense into?_

Screw that.

Shaking his head, he reached for another file holding another pointless stack of paperwork that another detective didn't need to waste time doing.

At least paperwork was impersonal.

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Olivia walked carefully, holding the steaming Styrofoam cup in front of her as she continued down the hall.

A wave of sadness passed through her as she went on past room after room, some doors open but most remaining shut. Despite the hospital staff's best efforts to make everything as cheerful as possible, it was just impossible not to think about the people who had been forced to spend Christmas Day in those rooms.

Elderly men and women.

Children.

Partners.

Swallowing hard, she shook the thoughts from her head and tried to concentrate on keeping the coffee from spilling.

"Hey stranger."

The voice startled her as she rounded the corner towards room 420 and she jumped in surprise, nearly splashing coffee all over herself.

Cragen grimaced, striding toward her quickly. "Sorry," he said apologetically, reaching a hand out to steady the cup for her. "I thought you saw me."

Any other day, she would have laughed. But her face remained stony and her eyes weary as she shook her head.

"No," she said simply.

She was startled when he kept hold of the cup and gently pulled it from her hand before wrapping her into a warm hug. She was shocked to feel tears welling up unexpectedly.

He released her after a minute and she blinked rapidly, keeping them at bay.

"How're you doing?" he asked softly, handing the coffee back to her. His face expressed concern. "Hanging in there?"

Her heart automatically began to feel squeezed.

"_Hanging" would definitely describe it._

She shook her head with fake confidence. "Don't worry about me," she said, and she meant it wholeheartedly.

The captain nodded and she knew without question that he saw right through her. But he didn't pursue the matter further.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by lately," he said. "Things have been insane these past few days…I just wanted to come tell you guys Merry Christmas."

"That's sweet of you, Captain," she said, somewhat awkwardly. She paused, biting her lip. "Um…Elliot is down for the night, actually. I-I just stepped out to get a coffee…"

_Because trying to get him to sleep wore me out._

She paused again. "But…you-you can come in to see him if you'd like," she said nervously, knowing that visiting hours were ending in about ten minutes. "He's asleep, but…"

"No, that's okay," Don said quickly. "I don't want to disturb him…just tell him I came by...and tell him the rest of the squad sends him well-wishes, too."

Olivia smiled gently. "I will," she said. "Definitely."

"Did his family come today?" the captain asked.

She wondered idly if he knew how Kathy had been staying with her. "They did," she said, nodding. "They've been here since about ten this morning." The brightness in her eyes couldn't be masked.

Swallowing hard, she continued quickly, "You just missed them, actually. Kathy walked the kids downstairs, but she's coming back."

Sadness appeared in the older man's brown eyes. "Did he enjoy having them here?" he asked softly.

The tears flooded up even faster, but for once her smile was genuine and big.

"Yes," she said, her voice shaking slightly as she recalled just how happy it had made him. "More than anything in the world."

She swallowed again. Unfortunately, the pain had been doubly sharp when it was time for the children to leave. It had been so hard to watch that even Kathy had started to cry.

The captain nodded awkwardly and she mirrored the action. They stood uncomfortably, eyes trying not to stare into each other's.

Fortunately, the PA system chose that moment to announce the end of visiting hours.

"Well, I'm going to go," Don said. "I'll…I'll be back to see him later. Maybe later on in the week…?" He trailed off, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah," she said quickly, nodding. "Yeah, of course. Anytime."

He nodded as well and hugged her again. This time, she returned it warmly.

"Goodnight, Olivia," he said softly.

She smiled gently. "Goodnight."

As he was walking away, something clicked in her mind suddenly. "Oh…Captain," she called out quickly. He turned back in surprise. "I'm sorry…I got your message a couple days ago but I forgot to call you back."

He looked puzzled and she continued hesitantly, "You…said there was something we needed to talk about…?"

"Oh." Realization dawned on his face along with an expression she couldn't read. She could have sworn he almost stammered, he was so quick to reply. "Don't worry about it. We'll talk about it…later."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't mind-"

"No," he said, cutting her off. Her eyebrows jumped in surprised and he nearly blushed. "That's alright, Olivia…don't worry about it. I'll get back to you."

He smiled nervously and hurried away so that she couldn't see his flaming face.

_Not tonight. I can't do this to him on Christmas._

Biting her lip, she watched him disappear around the corner. She pursed her lips nervously and sighed, opening the door to the room.

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"Hey, Doctor Warner," a cheerful voice greeted her as she stepped into the locker room. Julia Hart, one of the newest lab assistants assigned to her floor, smiled warmly as she was opening her locker. "Have a nice Christmas?"

Melinda smiled at the younger woman as she pulled out the key to her own locker. "I did," she said, nodding. "Kayla wasn't up at the crack of dawn this year, thank God…we kept her up late enough on Christmas Eve so that we could manage to sleep until about 7:00."

"Ha," Hart said mockingly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Don't rub it in. Nathan was up every hour asking if Santa had come yet."

She grinned. Julia's son Nathan had just turned three. She would bet they were up before light on Christmas morning. Her daughter always had been….in fact, this was the first year she could remember actually seeing sunshine as they opened presents.

"But he got some good toys, right?" she asked around the rubber band in her mouth. She began gathering her unruly mass of hair in an attempt to trap it enough to pull back.

Julia scoffed. "_Too_ good," she said sarcastically. "I've been listening to that "V-Smile" video game nonstop for two days now."

"But you haven't complained," Melinda said with a smile, knowing she was right. Nathan Hart was easily the cutest child she had ever met in her life. His big brown eyes had about made her melt the first time she had seen him.

"No," she admitted, shaking her head. "He's got me whipped. Just like his Daddy." She smiled, slipping her shoes off. "How about Kayla? Did she get that car you were talking about?"

Melinda reached into her locker and retrieved her lab coat. "I thought the girl was going to fall over herself," she said in amusement. Her daughter had been begging for one of those Mattel Barbie convertibles that she could drive herself for almost an entire year.

"She wanted to get in and start driving it right in the living room." She shook her head. "You want to talk about whipped…Mike was already moving furniture for her."

Julia laughed as she stood from the bench.

"I'll see you later on," she said, chuckling.

Melinda bid her goodbye and listened to the other woman's footsteps echoing off into the distance as she left the locker room. Sitting down, she donned her own pair of slip-resistant, rubber-soled shoes and locked the metal locker back up.

She groaned out loud when she got into her office. Her desk wasn't even visible beneath the piles of papers and folders. She had worked until about nine on Christmas Eve and had left everything where it was, afraid of losing anything. It was necessary, but a pain in the ass three days later when she had to come back to it.

As she got closer to the desk, a stark white sheet of copy paper lying directly over top of the mess caught her attention immediately. She picked it up and scanned it.

Her eyes widened and her heart began to race. Whirling around, she picked up her phone and began quickly punching in the numbers.

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She zipped up her purse and crossed the room to turn the television off. Reaching over to the desk, she carefully stacked the files and opened her briefcase to put them neatly inside.

Casey slung the leather bag over her shoulder and opened the door. She was just switching the lights off when her cell phone rang.

Huffing in exasperation, she flipped the lights back on and dropped the briefcase so that she would have leverage to reach for her purse. She dug quickly through it as the phone kept ringing, managing to locate it as it was ending its fourth ring.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Get yourself a newspaper, Counselor," a voice said harshly.

It took her a minute to recognize her boss' voice. "I beg your pardon?"

"Stop whatever you're doing," Branch continued edgily. "Grab today's paper, Casey. Now."

She was stunned motionless. Why was he calling her? She hadn't spoken to him since before leaving for the hotel a week ago.

But more importantly…why did he sound ready to explode?

"Wh-I…" She shook herself, trying not to stammer. "I don't have a paper here with me, sir…I'm heading down to talk to Dwight Haskins and the defendants right now."

His voice was so sharp that she almost flinched. "Stop where you are," he ordered edgily. "Go get today's paper from the front desk and call me in two minutes."

"Why-?" The dial tone shocked her. He had hung up on her.

Arthur Branch had hung up on her.

Swallowing hard, Casey put the phone back in her purse and picked up her briefcase.

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_The water splashed over his knees and began soaking through his pants like they were made of paper. He couldn't even feel it. _

_He nearly fell in his haste to muck through the sand. His hands were shaking and he was having a hard time drawing a breath._

_Elliot was sprawled on the wet sand with water washing steadily over his body and wasn't even moving. The blue eyes were watching him in desperation. His heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest when he heard the whimpers, muffled by an atrocious gag that had been shoved into his friend's mouth._

"_Hold on, buddy," he gasped tearfully. "I've got you, just hang on."_

_He couldn't untie him. He was straining so hard that he was grunting but the ropes weren't budging an inch. He brought the flashlight closer to the dark water and squinted. He had never seen knots like these before…Jesus, what had they **done**?_

_The sounds became more agitated. Tearing his eyes from his task, he looked up to see Elliot's face crumpled and shaking as helpless tears flooded his face, pooling around the gag._

He gasped and choked, heaving for air as his eyes flew open. His body shook and he felt like his heart was going to explode.

Bright sunshine was peeking through the slats of the tightly pulled blinds. John gulped and breathed hard, closing his eyes as his head came back limply against the pillow. Pulling his hand toward his face, he gazed at his watch.

2:35. He had been asleep for less than an hour.

The blinds were hopeless against the amount of light seeping through. He squinted and sat up, groaning. His breathing had slowed a little, but still hadn't returned to normal. He could feel the sweat making his shirt stick to him.

Groaning softly, he covered his eyes with his hand and sat still to give his heart time to recover.

After a few minutes, he lifted himself wearily to his feet and pulled off the damp t-shirt as he walked toward the bathroom.

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She couldn't move. Her heart was beating in her ears hard enough to block out the sounds of the busy lobby around her.

Despite the people moving about all around her, Casey couldn't tear her eyes away from the paper folded on her lap. She didn't think she had blinked in five minutes.

Her own face stared up at her from the front page of The New York Times. She had refused to give any interviews after the trial, but seeing the suit she had worn that day made it obvious that someone had managed to snag a photo anyway. The headline was short and yet the two words were guaranteed to haunt her for a long time to come.

**DOUBLE JEOPARDY**

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The room smelled like Fabreze. The strong scent hit her as soon as she unlocked the door and she was forced back a step.

Coming the rest of the way inside, Olivia closed the door behind her. The **DO NOT DISTURB **sign swayed on the handle as the door shut and she chained the door.

Both beds were unmade. That was odd, considering Casey was the only one using the room.

Her paranoia kicked in instinctively and she found herself checking behind the bathtub curtain and in the closet. She caught herself as she was lifting up the comforter of the bed nearest to her, realizing suddenly that she had her gun in her hand.

"What the hell is** wrong** with you?" she scolded herself out loud, scoffing in disgust.

Shaking her head, Olivia placed her gun back in the holster and unsnapped the belt from around her waist, placing it on the nightstand. She was falling onto the bed before she even knew what she was doing.

A weary sigh escaped, making her chest rise and fall. She just needed a quick shower to make her feel human. Just a quick shower, then she'd be right back.

The pile of pillows around her head felt so blissfully wonderful that she didn't want to move. She inhaled deeply through her diaphragm and stretched her back muscles, eliciting a pleasured sigh when she felt the bones in her spine cracking all the way down her backbone. The built-up tension had been sitting there for God-only-knew how long.

Her fingers clutched the comforter as she stretched again, closing her eyes.

Just a quick shower. She'd get up in one more minute and just take a quick shower.

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She sighed wearily, careful not to let the sound echo, and ran her fingers through her long strands.

_I think it's about time for a haircut._

He had always liked it long.

She usually kept it about shoulder length, but she remembered back when the twins were born she had been too tired and too busy to make time for a haircut. It had grown down almost to the middle of her back and he had told her over and over again how beautiful it made her look.

Of course, he knew nothing about pregnancy and the way hormones made a woman's hair so naturally thick and shiny during the course of the trimesters. Once the twins had arrived, it hadn't taken long for it to return to its limp state.

It was her mother's curse. She was thankful that Elliot's genes included thick hair and that all of her children had been blessed with it.

Kathy let her gaze flit over the bed to the blanket-covered lump near the wall. His face was halfway buried and his arm flung out to rest on the mattress, clutching his stuffed rabbit to the side of his body.

That was Maureen, always so thoughtful. She was sure her daughter had picked it out thinking of what she herself would want in a similar situation.

The thought made her gaze continue over past the bed to take in the small pile of brightly wrapped presents stacked neatly on the floor by the table.

She just couldn't get over her amazement with her children. Here they were being forced into the worst possible situation to ever befall a parent and they had still insisted on making sure he had presents for Christmas.

It hadn't mattered to them that their father hadn't been able to open them. It hadn't mattered that he had been asleep almost constantly throughout their visit.

All that mattered to them was that he was there.

Kathy shook her head. If only she could have the faith of her children.

A huge yawn ambushed her and she stretched widely, extending her arms over her head. She checked her watch as she came back down and saw that it was almost three. Once Olivia got back, she needed to head home.

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It had been a long time since he had been here…he had always sent his detectives to this building when cases required, but he was almost certain he hadn't done so in at least five years.

Calling her had been a desperate move on his part. But he just couldn't bring himself to call the ones the detective was usually familiar with.

Huang would be more than willing, he knew that, and the man would never be anything other than completely sympathetic and compassionate. But somehow he just had a feeling that Elliot would be too ashamed to ever open up to him about details so personal and horrifying, and the thought of causing him even a little bit of pain was too much to bear.

Having worked with offenders, Skoda was probably better at dealing with this because he knew plenty about the brutal nature of prison life. But for purely selfish reasons, Don just couldn't stomach his detective relieving his experience to a person who wouldn't be a comforting presence. The doctor would be the one most likely to relate to what happened, but the tough shell required for his job made him way too much of a long shot for the captain's liking.

Rebecca Hendricks had actually been his instinctive choice. She was female, she worked with all kinds of people, and she was good at her job. He knew that Elliot had gone to her of his own volition in the past, so obviously the detective was comfortable being personal with her. But there was still something that made him have second-thoughts about it enough to withhold requesting her assistance. His gut was telling him that this was going to require enough familiarity to sympathize but enough detachment to be able to get to the roots, and he just didn't see her as the right one.

Frankly, the one he chose had been almost forgotten from his mind because she worked with them so rarely. But after remembering the cases she _had _helped them with, Don began to warm to the idea. Talking to a child required a completely different mindset and it was her expertise. Her presence was naturally comforting and she was experienced at having to gain a patient's trust before she was able to talk to him.

Nothing was set in stone yet; ultimately he was going to leave it to Elliot and Elliot alone to decide what to do. But he thought that having her ready and waiting might make him less apprehensive about the whole idea.

He stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall, unfamiliar with the passage of time yet still bringing memories to his mind. He knew which office was hers without even glancing at the numbers on the doors.

His heart began to pound when he saw her coming out the door as he approached. She turned with her back to him to lock it, her arms full of files, and didn't even notice his presence.

"Doc," he called out, somewhat nervously.

Doctor Elizabeth Olivet turned sharply, her charcoal eyes reflecting surprise when she saw him.

"Captain Cragen," she said, smiling. Her expression was pleasant as she turned to face him. "How are you?"

"Not bad," he answered lightly.

Her brows creased slightly with anxiety. "I'm sorry," she said, sounding slightly panicked. "I wasn't expecting you… I'm actually on my way to court right now. Did I tell you today?"

"Oh, no," he said, holding up his hand quickly. "No, Elizabeth, you're fine. I just wanted to make sure you got my message."

She nodded, her face instantly softening. "I'll be happy to do it, Captain," she said gently. Her eyes reflected sadness for a moment. "I'm available to start whenever you need me."

His relief was obvious. "It won't be anytime soon, I imagine," Don said. "He's still recovering from surgery, and we've still got some major legal hurdles to get through."

"I can help with those as well," she said quickly. "If you need it."

He smiled genuinely. "Thank you," he said. "We will, trust me…right now, we're still working up to a statement. Testimony and everything else is going to be an issue soon enough."

She nodded. "How does he feel about the idea?"

"I haven't talked to him about it yet," he admitted. "I'm not sure how he's going to take it, so I didn't want to make anything concrete in case he decides not to…but I wanted see how you felt about it. If you don't think you're the right person for this, I completely understand."

"Talk to Elliot," she said, shifting her files. "He's a good man and I have nothing but high praise for him, always have. I'd be honored to have him trust me. But it's up to him…and whatever he decides, my opinion won't be changed."

He could see she needed to get going and didn't want to delay her. "I'm sorry to keep you," he said. "You go ahead; I'll be calling you in a few days to touch base." He smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Elizabeth….thank you so much."

She smiled warmly. "My pleasure."

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Finally making herself get to her feet, she pulled a scrap of paper from the pocket of her briefcase and retrieved her phone.

She paced the floor anxiously as she waited. Her mind was going in a hundred different directions, not one of which led to anywhere good.

"Erie County Holding Center," a male voice said.

"Yes, hi," she said. "Um…this is Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak. I'm scheduled to meet with Defense Attorney Dwight Haskins and his clients in about an hour…I believe they're in cellblock 26…?"

There was an awkward pause and she waited for the man to get the hint that she wanted him to double check the information. She ended up waiting almost a full minute.

"Oh," the man said quickly, and then she heard the faint clicking of computer keys. She rolled her eyes and forced patience that she didn't feel.

"Yes, ma'am, cellblock 26….let's see….Jason Evans, Ethan Jones, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, Jeffrey Pendleton and…Matt Lucas…John Hughes. Yes, here we go…" He paused again, squinting at the computer screen. "Scheduled for a meeting with one Dwight Haskins from the New York Office of Public Defense."

"Alright," Casey said in relief. "Listen, something important has just come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to the meeting. Could you please let Mr. Haskins know and have him call me to reschedule?"

"Certainly," the man agreed.

"Thank you," she said.

Hanging up, she sighed and rubbed her face with her palm. Branch was expecting her call, but she could afford to make to wait a few minutes. She needed to collect herself.

Turning around, she walked across the lobby back toward the elevators.

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A loud scraping nose made her jump. Her eyes flew open and she sat up instinctively.

She realized at once that she wasn't in her apartment or the hospital. The scraping sound was heard again and she remembered quickly where she was. She rolled over to look at the clock.

_4:30???_

_Shit!_

She struggled to maneuver her groggy muscles off of the bed as the door to the room opened. Casey stepped inside and jumped violently in surprise at the sight of Olivia.

"Sorry, Casey," she said guiltily, her words rushed as she scrambled to gather her shoes.

"It's alright," the attorney replied, watching her rushing around. "What's the matter?"

"I fell asleep!" Olivia said in disgust, shoving one foot through the sneaker. "I was just coming to get a quick shower and I laid down for a minute…damn it, Kathy's still at the hospital."

Casey kept watching in surprise as Olivia jammed the other shoe on and moved to the bedside table without tying them. She picked up the phone and punched a number, leaning down to tie the laces as she cradled the receiver between her ear and neck.

"It's Olivia," she said the moment the other woman picked up. "Kathy, I am so, so sorry. I fell asleep before I even got in the shower and just now woke up when Casey came back."

She stopped, as the other woman was obviously saying something.

"No, I'm not going to do that to you," she said anxiously, standing up. The phone cord stretched as she was rooting through her pockets. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Kathy said something else and the detective paused in her movement, her eyebrows crinkling indecisively.

"You sure?" she said hesitantly, glancing up at Casey for a minute. She listened again and shrugged, her shoulders slumping in what looked like defeat. "Alright…I'll be there in twenty-five, I swear. Time me." Casey heard a laugh from Kathy's end and smiled as Olivia hung up.

"She told me to go ahead and get a shower," she said, acknowledging Casey's puzzled amusement. She shook her head in disgust again. "God, I can't believe I did this…I'm so stupid!"

"You were tired," Casey pointed out. "When's the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

Olivia shook her head, refusing to listen to her. "I'm sorry about this, Casey," she said. "You mind me using your shower?"

"Go ahead," she said, gesturing. "Don't be sorry…I've told you a million times it's fine."

The detective flashed a tired grin as she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.

Casey blew through her cheeks and slid her briefcase to the floor, sitting down on the bed opposite of the one Olivia had been using.

She needed to call her boss…but she really, really didn't want to.

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Her nails tapped the back of her chair anxiously as she waited for the phone to be picked up.

"Hey, James," she said with relief. "It's Melinda Warner…Manhattan Medical Examiner's Office…." He interrupted her with a warm greeting, which she returned with a small smile. "Hello…yeah, I got your fax, thanks so much for…"

She listened a minute.

"I do, actually," she said. "Do you have-?" He answered in the affirmative and her face lit up. "God bless you…how many DNA samples are there again?"

His answer made her face twist in horror and dread.

_That will to take forever…_

"Ok, great," she said. "So you'll fax me their-?" She grinned. "Thank you…**God** I owe you good." He was saying something else and she had to snap back to focus. "Not a problem…yeah, fax would be fine. Sure. Thanks again, James…alright. Bye."

She sighed heavily as she hung up. Forty-eight DNA samples reported from the head of the Niagara Crime Scene Unit and she now had to test each one against the individual DNA collected from each of the suspects and Elliot.

Her mind began automatically trying to fill in the schedule.

_The kit is due back in two days…Casey will have a cow if I request to hold onto it any longer, I'm sure of it. _

She chewed her lip, racking her brain quickly.

_Forty-eight comparisons, at ten minutes per slide… eight hours total…we've got three autopsies tomorrow and one on Sunday. If I shift one of tomorrow's back, I can do two on Sunday. _

Her heart was already starting to pound with anxiety. She hated last-minute adjustments, especially when they involved something as important as this.

Sighing again, she ran her hands through her hair and switched off her desk lamp. She couldn't do anything tonight regardless of what happened, so she decided that for the moment it was better to concentrate on what was waiting for her at home.

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Her eyes opened even though she wasn't consciously aware of it as she shifted position on the cot and rolled over. Her body settled back into the wonderful cocoon of sleep.

It was sometime later that the sound of heavy breathing filtered in to her subconscious. As Olivia became aware, her instincts perked up immediately and she rolled back over quickly.

Seeing a dark figure standing near the hospital bed made her blood freeze. Kathy had gone home earlier that evening spend the night with her kids and the nurses always turned on the light when they came in.

She heard Elliot's tearful whimpering as she shot to her feet.

"Shit," she swore in panic. She flew toward the intruder, her hands shaking. "Get the fuck away from him!" Terror and rage warred for control. "I swear to God-"

Light suddenly flooded into her eyes and momentarily blinded her. Her heart pounding wildly, she forced them open again and saw Doctor Beck standing at the bedside with a horrified look on his face.

She froze, her face draining of color. They stared at each other.

The small gasps for breath snapped them both out of it. The doctor moved aside as Olivia hurried to Elliot's side.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, sounding absolutely mortified. "The nurses are short-staffed tonight…I was just coming to check the morphine drip. I'm terribly sorry to frighten you."

She was barely listening to his words as she cradled Elliot's head and neck gently. He was trembling, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. The terror in his eyes was so haunting that she could almost feel it.

"I didn't know whether or not the light would wake you," Doctor Beck continued. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I had no intention of scaring you."

Her eyes slammed closed. "It's alright, Doctor Beck," she murmured woodenly, her insides churning. "I apologize…I didn't recognize you."

"Do you need me to leave you alone for a minute?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "Yes, that would probably be best right now."

He nodded and quickly moved toward the door, apologizing once more as he shut it firmly behind him.

Olivia lowered the railing swiftly and leaned up onto the bed.

"Shh, sweetheart," she said sympathetically, pulling him into a warm hug. "I know that scared you, baby." She rubbed his back soothingly, feeling his convulsing breaths. "I know."

His hand was trembling as he clutched the back of her shirt in his fist, his face buried deep into the side of her collarbone. She let out a breath ridden with leftover adrenaline.

"It was an accident…the doctor's not going to hurt you, Elliot," she said. She continued rubbing up and down his back with the flat of her hand, pressing her face into his hair for a minute. "I'm right here. Everything's alright now."

He sniffled and moaned sleepily. She stroked his hair, finding herself unfairly cursing the doctor. Undisturbed sleep was a precious commodity that he wasn't afforded often.

"Shh…go back to sleep," she whispered calmly, rocking him steadily side to side. "Go back to sleep, Elliot. I'm right here…I've got you."

Her own eyes were drooping fast and she had to force herself to open them wide as she concentrated on projecting as much comfort as possible. She didn't care if she didn't get to sleep for the rest of the night.

Her partner was depending on her and she wouldn't let him down. Never again…never again would she let him down.

She would give up sleep for the rest of her life if that's what it took.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

No.

No.

No…

Blue eyes flew open with a sharp gasp and he lay rigid, trembling in fear. It took a moment for his surroundings to come into focus.

The chair was pulled right up next to his bed. Olivia was sitting awkwardly, her body nearly slumping out of the seat as she slept with her head drooping to face the opposite side of the room.

He could hear the noises of the hospital bustling outside the door, heard people talking and laughing as they passed. The blinds on the window beside him were pulled, but he could still see the morning sunshine peeping through.

He shuddered, pulling the blankets further up past his chin desperately, but it provided no relief. Tears flooded his eyes as he looked around again but he forced himself to stay completely silent. He had already kept her up last night.

Swallowing hard, Elliot struggled with the tears wanting so badly to come out and continued looking around.

_How long have I been here? _

Bright colors caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head slightly toward them.

A stack of presents.

His kids. Christmas.

_It's Christmas…it was Christmas…how many days ago was Christmas? How long have I been here?_

He gagged unexpectedly, his stomach churning so dangerously that it frightened him. Breathing hard, he squeezed his eyes shut.

The memory rode in waves, over and over, and he gagged again.

Panic made his heart race and he looked around wildly again until he spotted the sink against the wall, the counters laden with medical supplies.

The desperation made him shake. He needed to get there now.

Swallowing the tears again, he moved his legs gently. The pain that stabbed through his genitals made him gasp and he clapped a hand over his mouth quickly, shaking with shock. Olivia didn't stir and he closed his eyes.

Jesus….Jesus, it hurt so bad.

_I have to get there. I have to get there._

Sucking in a breath, he clenched his teeth and forced himself to move his legs further to the left. Inch by inch, he moved until he felt his left leg graze the edge of the mattress.

Bracing himself, he stopped to take a breath again and scooted further until his leg fell over the side.

He moaned in pain, covering his mouth again. The tears freed themselves and he bit his lip, glancing at Olivia anxiously.

She remained asleep.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he gathered all of his strength and began pushing himself to a sitting position. Before he knew what was happening, fire was engulfing his entire body and the room began spinning.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The steep steps were slick with sleet and she nearly tripped as she was ascending them hastily towards the warmth of the building. She managed to stay on her feet and darted through the courthouse doors gratefully.

Slowing down to catch her breath, Casey glanced at her watch as she walked to the elevator.

Quarter after ten.

The call to her hotel room at half past midnight that morning had been startling and disgruntling. Hearing Dwight Haskins voice on the other end telling her that Judge Verella wanted to see them in chambers at ten-thirty had made her want to throw the phone against the wall.

She could only guess what was going on. Hell, she had expected half the hotel to be camped out in front of her room when she got back from dinner last night. Having her face on the front page of the daily paper wasn't something many people would likely miss.

Stepping off on the fourth floor, Casey blew out a breath and walked towards the clerk's desk.

"Assistant District Attorney Novak," she said, holding out her identification to the woman behind the desk. "I'm meeting with Judge Verella."

The woman eyed her, which made her paranoia only heighten, and said nothing as she clicked away on the computer for a moment.

"Alright, Ms. Novak," she said, returning the identification. "Have a seat…the judge will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Turning around, she headed for the chairs sitting against the wall and sat down. The room was big and utterly silent, save for the clerk typing and her heart pounding with anxiety.

After about five minutes, she heard her name and almost jumped with the unexpected noise. She looked up quickly to see Judge Verella standing by the clerk's desk.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Counselor," he said solemnly, gesturing. "Come in."

Swallowing hard, she got to her feet and silently followed him into the office. She saw Haskins immediately in one of the chairs and was heading for the other one when she suddenly noticed a third presence in the room.

"Good morning, Casey," he said.

She stopped in her tracks and felt the blood rush from her face.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Body temperature?" she asked, turning her head to the side to face the younger man.

Gary's eyes focused intensely on the long thermometer, waiting for the mercury to appear.

"64 degrees Fahrenheit," he read. Placing the instrument down on the steel slab, he reached up and took hold of the waist, heavy gloves stretching all the way to his elbows. "Ready when you are, Doc."

Melinda recorded the temperature in the appropriate slot, adding handwritten notes along the margins for her own personal reminder later.

_Still seeing early cycle of rigor at 8 hours after death._

Hearing a grunt behind her, she hurried to scribble the rest and then strode to the table.

"Son of a bitch weighed 200 pounds," the young man groaned as he fumbled for a sturdy hold on the slippery flesh. "What the hell kind of 'athletic event' could he have possibly been in?"

She allowed a smile to break free and chuckled as she got in position on the opposite side of the table. Their job was run with nothing but respect for the dead…however, both had been part of the team so long that they knew how to appreciate the gallows humor whenever it was found.

Ronald Coleman was in his early 50's, divorced with no children, and worked as a file clerk at an accounting firm. He had been brought in first thing that morning by Brooklyn Homicide and reported to have died the previous afternoon while participating in an athletic event being hosted by one of his coworkers. The autopsy had determined cause of death as heart failure.

Melinda hadn't even needed it. It was obvious just by looking at him that Mr. Coleman's diet was highly unhealthy. His stomach contents revealed that his last meal had consisted of fried fish, fried potatoes, cornbread, some kind of chocolate, and beer.

She shrugged, hooking her arms around the upper chest. "Maybe it was intramural," she said, too ashamed to say what she had really been thinking.

_Maybe it was a pie-eating contest._

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep a straight face.

_Straight to hell, Melinda. You're going straight to hell, you horrible woman._

"Alright, you got it?" she asked. Gary nodded, his posture straightening in preparation. "One…two…three."

They struggled to turn the heavy corpse right side up again. Both were grunting without meaning to….rigor still had the muscles so stiff that they could hardly move it. She braced her knee against the side of table, almost leaning on top of the cold flesh to keep her grip, but quickly realized she wasn't going to make it.

"Let go, let go," she grunted urgently, not wanting her assistant to hurt himself. "I have to release."

Gary promptly lowered his portion of the body back down. She lowered both feet to the floor and stepped back.

"Geez," she gasped, panting slightly. She shook her head in amazement, leaning her hands on her kneecaps to breathe. "Whew."

Her assistant was also panting. "I hear you," he said empathetically. His expression was bewildered as he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Melinda got back upright. "Let's try this again," she said, stepping back up to the table. "Here…" She narrowed her eyes in thought. "Move up a little higher…the upper body is just too wide for me to grip. I'm going to try lifting from under the shoulder blades."

Gary nodded and moved to the side to reposition his hands around the lower pelvis. Sighing through her teeth, she stepped around to stand at the end of the table and wedged both arms underneath the solid neck, sliding down to the shoulders.

"Ready?" she said.

"You're good," he confirmed. "Go for it."

She counted off again and they lifted. The new position proved to be much easier, but by the time they completed the job, both were still sweating and panting.

"Whew," Gary exhaled, wiping his brow. "Alright."

Melinda nodded, echoing the sentiment.

"That's the only one this morning," he said. "You want me to finish up the report?"

"No," she said, walking toward one of the four stainless steel washbasins. "That's alright, Gary, I'll get to it later."

He nodded, stepping up to the one beside her. Silence fell between them as they stripped off the gloves and washed up.

Gary wiped his hands on a paper towel, tossing the gloves in the dispose bin. "Well, I guess I'll go ahead downstairs and start on the personal effects," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Do you need me?"

She shook her head, mechanically tossing her own gloves into the bin. Her mind was a million miles away.

"No," she said. "Go ahead, you're fine." Her voice sounded distracted and he was puzzled when she wouldn't look at him. She always looked people in the eye when she talked to them. "I've actually got some important files to go over, so I'll be in my office."

He watched as she walked toward the door slowly. "Oh…and Gary," she said, turning back for a minute. "Unless it's urgent, have Jenny hold any calls, alright?"

She saw the perplexed look cross his face.

"Uh…sure," he said quickly, a hint of confusion unable to be masked in his voice. "No problem, Doc." He looked at her hesitantly. "See you a little later."

She only nodded vaguely, already halfway out the door.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The agonized moan made her jump out of sleep. Blinking in disorientation, Olivia suddenly remembered where she was and snapped her head around so fast that it hurt.

Elliot was hanging sideways off of the mattress, his legs almost touching the floor. His chest was pressed against the bedside table and he was braced against it with his hands as he lay his face down in the wood. The blankets were bunched around his waist.

"Elliot," she gasped in horror, jumping up. "God…"

She stepped between the bed and the table, gently circling his back with her arms. She could feel him shaking.

"I've got you, sweetie," she assured as soothingly as she could. Her touch was gentle and supporting. "It's alright, Elliot…let's get you back up here, okay?"

She gently tugged him toward the pillows until he was far enough for her to let go and then came back down to scoop his legs up with her arms. She brought them slowly around until they too were safely supported.

"Does anything hurt, Elliot?" she asked immediately, terrified beyond words that he had done worse damage to his injuries. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"

He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut. Knowing he would be vocal if he were indeed in pain, she brought the blankets back up and spread them over him again.

"What happened, honey?" she continued, eyes narrowed with worry. "What were you doing?"

The crushed look on his face absolutely broke her heart. He attempted to shake his head again and broke down into tears before he finished the motion. Her hand came up immediately to cradle his forehead and she rubbed his temple.

"Hey…" she whispered tenderly, bringing her hand up into his hair. "What happened?"

His breaths were hitched and broken. She continued stroking his forehead, looking down at him compassionately.

"Want…get it," he mumbled.

His speech was so garbled that she couldn't understand what he was saying, but she tried her best anyway.

"Get what?" she asked gently, confusion in her voice.

He looked away and didn't respond. She furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what he meant, and glanced at the floor. The rabbit was lying on the floor by her foot. She reached down to retrieve it.

"Uh-oh…somebody forgot a parachute," she said, bringing the plush up to the bed. She smiled softly, hoping for a sign of the same, but there was none. She bit her lip, lowering her voice again. "Is this what you were trying to get, sweetheart?"

She held it out onto the bed. He glanced over and reached out immediately, taking the animal against his side and turning away again.

Olivia fell silent but she kept stroking his forehead to assure him that she was there. They remained that way for several minutes.

"Sink," he murmured suddenly. "I need to get to the sink."

He sounded bone-weary. His head drooped back toward her and this time he didn't move.

Confusion muddled her features.

"The sink?" she repeated slowly, lightly scratching his scalp. His eyes closed with each touch. She paused a minute. "Are you thirsty?"

She could see tears brimming in his eyes again as he shook his head.

"I want…want the soap," he said, his voice wavering. "Please… I have to get clean."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, the tears spilled out again. He began to sob in despair, his chin sinking to his chest.

Her heart shattered.

He turned back towards the opposite wall. The rabbit came up around to the other side and he squeezed it against his neck with his good hand. His face came down into the fur and rested there.

Taking a quiet breath against her own tears, Olivia swallowed and wiped her face quickly. She didn't speak, but brought her hand hesitantly over to his neck and rubbed gently.

He didn't say anything….but he also didn't move away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She was suddenly very glad for the chair. If she had been standing, she wasn't sure she would have been able to keep her strength.

"You…can't be serious," she said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice.

"I am serious," District Attorney Arthur Branch said from the last chair. His voice sent chills up her spine. "I warned you at the start, Casey."

Her heart was racing as she tore her gaze from him to look at the judge.

"Judge, with all due respect," she said. "I ran it by you first…you agreed to it."

The look he gave her could have melted a glacier.

"I didn't agree to a direct violation of the Constitution, Ms. Novak," he said frostily, arching an eyebrow. "I granted permission for the selection of a new jury for the remainder of the trial…I don't recall the word 'retried' ever coming into the conversation."

"Nor do I," she agreed, feeling totally overwhelmed. "Sir…where did this idea even come from? I never said I was going to attempt another try."

"It was straight from the horse's mouth," Dwight Haskins interjected in disdain. "You said after court was out that you were going to be using a new jury to prove a kidnapping charge that my clients have already been cleared of."

Her stomach dropped to her feet as she remembered the conversation she'd had with Captain Cragen outside of the courtroom that day. He was attempting to offer her encouragement about the loss and she told him not to worry about it.

"_Elliot hasn't has his turn yet, Don. Once the jury hears his side, there's not a chance in hell anyone can deny what those bastards were planning when they took him."_

At her continued silence, Judge Verella spoke up. "Now, I'm not sure how exactly this became a matter for the press," he said. "But can you see my position, here, Counselor? This is a serious matter…I don't take lightly to my judgment being fabricated."

She fought the urge to glare, knowing it would not win her any points with the judge or her boss. "I know how to do my job just as well as all of you gentlemen," she said. "Not only is accusing me of attempting double jeopardy false information, it's downright insulting."

Swallowing hard, she turned toward her boss. "I can't control you taking me off this case," she said. "But I feel I should be given the opportunity to explain my actions before you make that decision, sir."

The long silence that settled over the room seemed to capture every beat of her heart. But she kept her expression steady.

Branch sighed softly, glancing at Judge Verella. At his nod of permission, he looked back at her. "Alright, Casey," he said, gesturing. "Please explain it to us."

She nodded, letting out a deep breath. "Thank you," she said

Her gaze flitted to Haskins for a moment. "Mr. Haskins claimed his clients were being denied the right to due process," she began, struggling to keep her personal disgust with the man from showing in her voice. "There has been no documented evidence of such and yet that was the sole reason why the trial was presented in the first place."

"There hasn't?" Haskins interjected coldly.

Casey pinned him with a vicious stare but continued without acknowledging him.

"The defendants were tried for kidnapping in the first degree," she said. "Pre-meditated, cold-calculated kidnapping…but there was no victim." Her teeth were almost clenching now. "The last time I checked, the law specifies 'innocent until _proven_ guilty'."

She narrowed her eyes. "If someone is burglarized, will a neighbor watching from his window be able to describe what is missing? If a man is found bleeding, will someone who sees him lying in the street be able to account for how it happened?"

"Spare the hypotheticals, Counselor," Judge Verella said gruffly. "We get the point."

Flushing, Casey had to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. "The defense is awarded access to the accused at all times during a proceeding," she said. "How is it considered 'due process' if the I haven't been able to get the same from my victim?"

The room fell silent.

"What is your proposition, Counselor?" Judge Verella asked, sounding rather agitated.

She looked him straight in the eye. "Abduction with intent to defile," she said. She enunciated her words boldly. "An acquittal is an acquittal. But a sexual assault charge is still being pursued and the facts surrounding it will reveal that Detective Stabler was held against his will in order for it to be carried out."

Her head turned toward Haskins as she spoke, her eyes glinting dangerously. "I've got a box full of evidence, a police report, and a pending statement that will prove both without a doubt."

He pursed his lips, but said nothing. Arching an eyebrow, she turned toward the judge.

"You're absolutely correct, sir," she said. "I have no grounds to try the defendants again for kidnapping in the first degree. But I have every right to prove it….different jury, different charge."

With that, she fell silent and looked at Arthur Branch.

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Kathy blew through her cheeks lightly and tapped the edge of the folded paper on the dining room table, her arms folded across one another. She sat with her back to entrance of the kitchen, staring outside of the big picture window next to the countertop across from her.

The downstairs was quiet. Half of her children were out of the house- Maureen was at work and Elizabeth had gone to the movies. Her oldest being gone was nothing new, she was always somewhere, but Kathy was pleased with the way her youngest seemed to be handling herself as of lately.

Liz had been the one she had worried most about through the whole ordeal; she had been so very upset, more than the others. Being able to visit her father was definitely raising her spirits as much as they could be given the situation.

The other two were upstairs, doing whatever it was teenagers did on days off from school. Dickie more than likely was sitting at his computer Instant Messaging the whole northern hemisphere since he was no longer able to send text messages any more.

She shook her head. Her son…

Two months ago, her cell phone bill came out to $200 more than what she normally paid. After looking through the statement Kathy had discovered 124 calls listed as coming from his cell phone. It turned out he had sent 118 text messages that month to his friends.

She immediately informed him that if he wanted to use text messaging, he was going to be paying for it himself each month. There had been no more text messages on any more of her bills after that little discussion.

But Kathleen was the one she was truly getting nervous about.

Even from the beginning, she had internalized all of her emotions regarding the situation even when Kathy had begged to talk to her. She had only become more withdrawn as the weeks passed and not even being with Elliot seemed to do anything.

It broke her heart to see her daughter so depressed, but every time she tried to reach out Kathleen would fly off in fits of rage. When they weren't fighting, she was holed up in her room writing in that notebook of hers...hours at a time she'd sit there, writing in it and blaring music from her stereo.

She'd thought that things were alright at school, but judging from this letter she was realizing that she had been naïve and clueless.

Footsteps pounding rapidly down the stairs startled her and she shook herself mentally, scooting away from the table.

"I'm going out," her daughter's voice yelled out as she began opening the front door.

She was startled when her mother interrupted her.

"Kathleen, hold on."

Turning around in annoyance, Kathleen watched her mother walking slowly toward her from the kitchen. The look on her face was well-known to all of them…she was mad at someone.

"You're not going anywhere," Kathy said frostily, stepping up to her.

The fire in her eyes was unmistakable and Kathleen groaned inwardly.

_Great. I'm the one she's pissed at._

"Mom," she said. "What-?"

"In the kitchen," her mother said coldly. The tightening of her face made her daughter visibly gulp. "Now."

Turning on her heel, Kathy walked back toward the kitchen, leaving her daughter standing nervously. It took a moment, but footsteps soon followed her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, approaching the table where her mother stood.

Kathy spun around, brandishing a wrinkled paper in both hands. "When were planning on telling me about this?" she asked in a dangerously soft voice.

Confused, she reached out to take it from her. The high school letterhead was the first thing she saw and in an instant she knew. Her stomach plummeted and she bit her lip, dragging her eyes hesitantly back to her mother.

The pale expression and guiltily knit eyebrows spoke more than her daughter ever could. She found herself breathing audibly through her nose in anger as she watched Kathleen's face with increasing fury.

"Mom," she said weakly. "I…I can explain…"

"Please do," she snapped harshly. "Explain." Her hand slapped the paper down on the table. "Explain why I've received an order to appear before the school truancy board concerning where my daughter has been for the past two weeks when she hasn't been showing up to class."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes briefly, saying nothing.

"Don't jerk me around, Kathleen Sara," she continued, seething. "I swear to God, young lady…you'd better get those eyes up and give me a straight answer."

The use of her full name made her cringe. Her mother never swore, either.

_I am so fucking screwed._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, Doc."

The weathered yet lovely face of the Medical Examiner swiveled wearily toward the source of the voice to see lab assistant Angela Barnes standing in the doorway. The young woman was wearing a heavy down jacket, gloves, and a gentle smile.

Sucking in a breath, Melinda put her pen down and brought her hands up to run raggedly through her hair.

"Hi, Angela," she said tiredly.

The blonde flicked her head slightly behind her. "The last of Coleman's tests are in the log for the morning," she said. She paused a moment, biting her lip hesitantly and smiling invitingly. "A bunch of us are going over to the Applebee's on St. Paul's for late dinners…want to join us?"

Her eyes flitted to the clock across the desk. Quarter to midnight. She sighed heavily without being able to help it.

"Thanks," Melinda said, smiling weakly. "I've still got a ways to go yet, though." Her hand came up to rub the back of her neck and she sighed again. "You guys go ahead, have fun."

Angela's face twisted sympathetically. "Alright," she said. "We'll see you tomorrow, then." She smiled. "Goodnight, Melinda."

"Goodnight," she answered.

The young woman disappeared out of the doorway for a moment and then came back after a minute. "I'll lock up," she said, nodding.

"Thanks," she repeated, nodding back. "See you tomorrow."

She kept her gaze on the doorway to return a tired smile to Gary and the five other lab techs who initiated the gesture as each herded past. Then her smile slipped right off and she scooted herself further back to her desk.

Lying next to her right elbow was a stack of carefully placed, paper-thin lab reports. She had been sitting in front of her computer for the past five hours typing in codes for the results she had accumulated from the DNA screenings of the evidence and in all that time she had only completed a total of ten.

The Crime Scene Unit had informed her of forty-eight samples collected…but what they had failed to mention was that each sample actually contained multiple different _types_ of cells that corresponded to each of the DNA strands.

As a result, she'd been unprepared for when she saw over a hundred different sperm cells, bodily fluids, and blood particles appearing on each piece of evidence she scanned.

Some of them were too ambiguous to distinguish, but others were brutally obvious as to what they had been used for.

The thought of Elliot being on the receiving end of this type of sick perversion was enough to make her so sick that she'd actually pushed the trashcan next to her chair in case she were to suddenly lose it.

She'd called the house at about eight-thirty to say goodnight to her daughter and to hear Mike's comforting voice as she'd told him that she wouldn't be able to make it home that night.

He had been absolutely fantastic, telling her how much he loved her and how great of a woman she was for the job she did every day. Instead of wanting his wife and the mother of their child home after being gone since before sunrise, as he had every right to, he had simply told her he would bring her breakfast the next morning.

Not for the first time, she thanked God for the wonderful man she was blessed enough to call her husband and best friend. He saw inside her soul where no one else could. She knew the anxiety of needing to get this completed was so great that she would never have been able to relax if she had left. Even though she never said a word about it, she had a feeling he knew it too and that's why he had insisted she stay.

Her eyes wobbled slightly from fatigue as she looked at the computer monitor again and she rubbed them harshly. One careless blunder was enough to ruin scores of vital evidence and Elliot didn't deserve even one millisecond of time spent thinking about her own selfish desire for rest.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Busy day today?" Olivia asked sympathetically, watching her slide her coat on with a yawn.

"Not busy," she replied, shaking the water from her eyes. "Just early…my first showing is scheduled for 10 am." Her tone of voice conveyed her disdain for the almost two-hour drive back home at 7:30 in the morning, and the other woman winced empathetically. "But at least I get off earlier."

Olivia nodded hesitantly, pursing her lips balefully. "How're the kids?" she asked softly.

Kathy had told her all about the problems Kathleen was having. It broke her heart. She had watched those kids grow up practically, and loved them like blood.

The blonde rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head. "We'll see when I get home," she said wryly.

Zipping the coat up, Kathy smiled gently at Olivia and turned to walk toward the bed. Her face became weighed with sadness as she gently traced her hand over the blankets covering her ex-husband's sleeping form and squeezed his hand.

"See you later," she said quietly to Olivia, stepping around her.

Elliot inhaled sleepily just as she reached the door, the sound startling both women into turning around toward the bed. Her heart melted at the sight of him blinking sleepily and attempting to look around. She went back to him and smoothed her hand over his forehead, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"I'll see you later, baby," she murmured tenderly, moving up to press her lips against his for a moment. She smoothed his forehead again as he looked at her with sleep-filled blue eyes. "I love you."

He inhaled drowsily again, his blinks becoming labored and long. Kathy smiled lovingly and stepped away. They both knew it wasn't time for him to be awake yet.

"Bye," she whispered to Olivia, heading out the door.

She smiled in return as the blonde shut the door quietly from outside. Turning back toward the chair, she saw her partner conked out once more and smiled gently.

Stretching her arms up over her head, she reached for the cup of coffee that Kathy had gotten for her earlier. The second she raised it to her lips, her phone vibrated against her hip.

Groaning softly, Olivia placed the cup back on the table and stood up, digging through her pocket as she opened the door.

"Benson," she answered softly, stepping into the doorway.

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"Olivia, it's Casey," she said uneasily, shifting the pillow higher up behind her neck.

"Hey, Casey," the detective answered immediately. "How're you doing?"

_Worse now that you asked._

She hesitated. "Alright," she said. Her heart pounded with fervor and she cursed her nerves. "Listen, I'm sorry to call you so early-"

"It's alright," Olivia interrupted easily. "I was up anyway. What's up?"

The understanding in her friend's voice tore at her even more and she felt even worse about what she was about to say.

"Um…Olivia…" Shaking her head, Casey bit her lip and decided to just blurt it out. "Look, um…I'm afraid I've got some news that you're not going to like."

She immediately heard the catch in her friend's voice as her breath was lost for the briefest of seconds. When she spoke again, it was obvious that she had braced herself. "What is it?"

"I had a meeting with the judge yesterday," she said. "The kidnapping conviction is final. I'm sorry."

There was silence for a minute. "I just can't believe it," Olivia finally said quietly. "After everything he's been through, those bastards are getting a free walk."

"No, they're not," she was quick to cut in. "Look, Judge Verella may not be on my favorites list at the moment, but he understands that I still have to get Elliot's side to this and has granted me time to get it." She let out a breath. "Don't worry, Olivia…I promise you they're going to be punished for everything. Just trust me."

"What else is there?" the detective asked with trepidation. When Casey didn't immediately answer, she continued, "I can tell by your voice…there's something else. Tell me."

_Damn it._

"I'm going ahead with the sexual assault charges," Casey said. "But due to the right of the accused, the judge has ordered that I'm going to have to get Elliot to make ID's sometime in the next 24 hours."

"You can't do that," Olivia said, panicked. She paused. "Casey, he…he won't be able to handle it."

Her friend sounded absolutely devastated and she felt the exact same way. Never before had she ever hated her job as much as she did right then.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly. "We're closing in on the end of December here, Olivia…and as much as I want to, I can't delay the trial until he's back in perfect health."

Her despair was easily recognizable. "If we wait too much longer, the judge will subpoena him. I don't want to make him go through that."

Silence again.

"Will he have to give a statement, too?" She had never thought Olivia Benson was capable of sounding so small. It was unnerving.

"Not right now," she assured. "But we're going to have to start preparing for it very soon."

More silence. Casey was counting her own heartbeats as they thudded against her chest.

"How are you going to do it?" the detective finally asked.

"I've already talked to the defense about doing photo identification," she said. "I called Cragen to get it set up...he's coming up a little after noon and Haskins is going to meet us at the hospital."

She heard Olivia take a shuddering breath and winced.

"I know how hard it's going to be," she continued softly. "This hurts me too, Olivia…you have no idea just how much."

The silence lasted so long that she began to wonder if Olivia had hung up.

"Can I be there?" Olivia finally asked softly. "Casey, I can't leave him." Tears were choking her voice. "Please, is it alright if I'm there too?"

She sighed painfully. "I can't guarantee anything," she said. "I'll talk to the judge….I imagine it won't be a problem, but I'm not positive. I'll get back to you."

Olivia sighed tearfully but didn't speak again.

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"This isn't fair, Captain," the detective said angrily, glowering from where he stood across the room. "Elliot's my friend…my _friend_!"

"I know he's your friend," he said softly, weariness thickening his voice even though the day had just begun. "Fin, I know you care about him…I've never doubted that for a moment."

"Then why go this way?" he snapped harshly, nearly interrupting his captain.

"There isn't anything I can do about it!" Don said, the exasperation and frustration unable to be held in any longer. "The four of you are still officially relieved from duty and I am not allowed to let any of you participate in any active cases...meaning absolutely no involvement until after the trial is finished."

Fin sighed angrily, looking for all the world like he wanted to punch someone.

He looked at the detective with equal parts helplessness and disgust. "I'm sorry."

The office fell silent and both men looked away from each other.

Don shifted weight restlessly, his mind whirling with anxiety and despair. He was meeting Casey in a little less than three hours to accompany her to the hospital so that…

His stomach convulsed at the very thought and he savagely pushed it away for the moment.

_Concentrate on now, Cragen…just concentrate on right now…_

That left him an hour and a half before he had to be on the road. There was still so much to do and his mind was wrapped up in what was awaiting him in Buffalo.

The minute he had arrived that morning he had already found a message waiting from the captain of Brooklyn Special Victims needing him to send out two teams of detectives because there was some sort of mixed-up mess going on involving prostitutes and a suspect from one of their latest cases…so that left him short four detectives, not counting the other four currently on suspension and the two in Buffalo.

The chief of Internal Affairs had been calling him nonstop since yesterday demanding a decision about his detectives. He had been successful so far in avoiding him, but there were only so many times he could make excuses before something drastic occurred.

It made him absolutely furious that the bastard would have the nerve to expect him to be thinking about that right now. He sincerely hoped he was well down the road before he received another call because he was only a few wrong words from making the entire situation blow up.

Fin tapped his fingers anxiously against the side of his jeans and tried not to let the panic overwhelming him show on his face.

The thought of forcing Elliot back through the hell of memories was so painful that it literally made his chest ache, but there were no hesitations about wanting to help him through every step of the way.

If he was suspended, he would never have the chance. But the only way to get back on duty would require ratting out his partner for an act that, if he really was honest with himself, he would have been glad to do himself.

He never knew what it felt like to be torn in half until right now.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Yes," she breathed wearily, leaning back in the chair to watch the printer.

She was so tired that she wanted to collapse. The night had been long, the coffeepot had gone on the blink twice and her waterproof mascara was so sticky that a few times she had been forced to wedge her finger into her eyelid just to be able to blink.

But she had done it.

Twenty-four straight hours with no sleep and at least five years since she had last pulled an all-nighter…but she had done it.

Blowing through her cheeks, Melinda extracted the last page and laid it on top of the stack. She shuffled them neatly, thumbing the pages back as she counted each one.

_Thank you, God._

Blinking rapidly, she began separating them into piles to distinguish each person's DNA and findings.

_Man, that bed is going to feel so nice. I hope Mike has the heat turned on in the room._

Elliot…Elliot….suspect 1…suspect 2….Elliot…suspect 5…

_I feel like Chinese…I'll ask Mike if he wants to order out tonight. It's been a while since we've done that. _

Suspect 6….suspect 6….Elliot…suspect 2….Elliot….

The motions became automatic after a while as she continued sorting, allowing herself to work rapidly while still keeping her focus.

After about eight minutes, she was holding the last page in her hand. She glanced at the stacks and was startled to see that it didn't match any of them.Blinking rapidly, she thumbed through the pages once more, searching with a trained eye. After five minutes, she was back where she started.

Her stomach rose to her throat as she examined the page again and looked at the others. Her brain clicked at that moment and her stomach rose to her throat.

"Oh, God," she murmured.

She reached for the phone immediately, her fingers trembling. Her heart pounded as she listened to the tone.

"Hello?"

"Casey," she said, swallowing hard. "It's Melinda Warner."

"Oh, hi!" the attorney said. "How-"

She interrupted before the other woman could finish the word. "At the trial last week…were all of the defendants present?"

There was a moment of silence as Casey started, fumbling. "Uh…yes," she said quickly. "Yes, all of them."

Melinda felt her stomach drop. "So…seven were arrested?"

"Yes, seven." The attorney's voice was slightly agitated. "Why do you ask?

The medical examiner's voice was weak. "We've got a problem," she croaked, swallowing hard. Her throat was tight. "I've got the DNA results from the evidence here in front of me. Besides Elliot's, there were seven other samples produced."

Casey's mind connected at once and she felt her stomach drop to the floor. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm looking right at it," she confirmed. "There were more than seven attackers."


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**It is a little disappointing that a lot have decided this is getting too long to continue following. The next few chapters are perhaps my most personal ones yet and extremely sensitive. I really would like more feedback. **

After what seemed like an eternity of tension, he finally sighed in defeat. Though showing no outward response to the sound, the captain's eyes flickered in relief.

"How do I get back on the case?" Fin asked, his voice low.

He avoided Cragen's eyes, purposefully keeping his focus on the floor. The question was redundant as they both already knew the answer.

Don remained silent and waited, seeing the internal struggle in front of him as clearly as if Fin were having a fit.

Another minute passed and the detective sighed. He raised his head to look into the other man's eyes.

Cragen's expression was soft. "I have to go," he said gently.

They locked gazes again and the defiant silence continued until Don pursed his lips, stepping around the desk. Fin turned and watched as he approached the door.

"Captain," he said desperately, as the other man stepped out.

Turning back, Cragen saw pure despair on the tough detective's face. He raised his eyebrows matter-of-factly.

"If you want to talk when I get back," he said quietly. "I'm all ears."

He left Fin staring after him as he strode out of the office.

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The phone rang as she was sorting through the pages of the contract drawn up for the potential buyers of her latest prospect. Licking her finger, she held her place in the middle and reached for the phone with her free hand.

"Coldwell Banker and Associates," she answered. "This is Kathy."

"Hi, Mrs. Stabler?" a woman's voice said.

Her voice was unfamiliar and Kathy heard the distinct sound of people talking busily in the background. "Yes?"

"This is Patricia Young, from the Westmoreland High School clinic," she continued.

As soon as she heard the words "Westmoreland High School", angry neurons began shooting through her brain. She'd arrived to her first showing a half-hour late because she'd had to drop off Kathleen first. Having to drive her almost 18-year old senior almost 30 miles to school just to make sure she actually went was not one of the top ways she liked to start her morning.

_What could she possibly have done now? _

The thought both infuriated and worried her. Was she losing control of her children?

"I have Kathleen here," the nurse said. "She has a little bit of an upset stomach...she doesn't have a fever so I told her she'll be fine to go back to class, but she's pretty insistent about wanting you to come get her."

Her teeth clenched tightly and she breathed deeply through her nose. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was half past eleven.

_I'm going to kill this child. Kill her._

She sighed angrily. "I'm on my way," she said woodenly. "Thank you."

She replaced the receiver and sighed in frustration, turning to grab her coat from the coat rack. Picking up her keys, she jammed them into her pocket with more force than necessary as she headed out of the office.

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"I want to go home."

His voice was unexpected, making her eyes dart to his face in surprise. The overwhelming sadness in his eyes made her flinch.

"I want to go back to New York," he continued softly.

Her face scrunched sympathetically on instinct as she came over to him. She made no move to correct him, to tell him he hadn't left New York at all the entire time.

_I can't imagine how scared he must have been…he probably felt like he was a million miles from home._

Her hand came up to his cheek the instant she saw the tears sliding slowly down.

"I know you do, honey," Olivia said sadly. "Oh, Elliot…I know." A sob shook him and she felt it rip through his face. "I promise you'll get to go home soon." Her fingers began combing into his hair. "I promise."

He shook his head, his eyes casting downward away from hers. Olivia bit her lip, continuing to stroke his face, but her mind was racing.

Casey's phone call was still ringing around in her ears. Now that he was awake, he needed to know about the identification procedure, especially since time was getting short until they would be arriving.

But she was scared. She couldn't bear the thought of the pain it was going to cause him.

_I have to tell him...like it or not, Casey's right…we need to start coming to terms with this._

_The surprise might be too much for him to handle if I don't tell him ...he has to be able to concentrate…so I need to tell him._

_If I can't handle his reaction to this, how am I ever going to be able to cope hearing him give his statement?_

_Oh, Jesus…I thought I could handle this. What if I can't handle this? How is he going to be able to handle this if I can't even handle this?_

"Olivia."

His soft voice broke through her internal debate, startling her.

"Yeah?" she answered quickly, coming back to focus.

She realized with a start that she had been hypnotically stroking into his hair the entire time she had been arguing with herself.

He blinked. "I'm thirsty," he said softly.

His clear blue eyes were gazing up at her so openly, and as she looked into them she felt her heart break.

She knew what she needed to do.

Pursing her lips to keep from showing her emotion, she nodded. "Well, then," she said, forcing her tone to be light. "Let's get you some ice."

She felt a tear fall down her face as she leaned over him to press the call button.

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"Mommy."

Brown eyes peeped over the top of the king-sized bed, small teeth biting hesitantly into a naturally pouted lip as their owner looked anxiously at the form sprawled a few feet away.

"Mommy."

She grunted softly, her face twitching for a minute before relaxing into sleep again.

The bed dipped slightly, eliciting loud squeaks from the aged copper springs under the mattress that made her twitch again. Heavy breath was suddenly right next to her face and she felt a small hand tapping her face.

With a groan, Melinda forced her eyes open. Kayla lay beside her, trying for innocence as she looked back up at her.

She inhaled sleepily and rubbed a hand over her face, gazing over at the nightstand on the other side of the bed. She had been asleep less than five hours.

"Hey, baby girl," she murmured sleepily, holding out the hug until her daughter began to squirm. She allowed her to move back before brushing her hand through the messy curls hanging loosely from a barrette that had almost slipped completely out. Obviously, Mike had let her fix her hair by herself that morning. "Did you have fun at school today?"

Kayla's eyes were bright as she nodded excitedly and Melinda couldn't stop from smiling with her. She climbed up and sat on her stomach.

"We had a fireman come talk to our class," she said, talking rapidly. "He had a big yellow hat and he let me put on his fire coat!" Her mother's eyebrows rose with interest and she nodded encouragingly as the girl kept chattering. "And we saw the big fire truck outside and he even turned the _siren on_!"

"Wow!" Melinda said, struggling to maintain an excited tone as her body desperately begged for more sleep. "Was it loud?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, real loud!" she said. "And guess what else? Jessica Drake is having a sleepover party for her birthday and she invited all the girls in my class…me and Tiffany and Sara and…"

"K Bear!" The deep voice of her husband invaded as she was struggling to keep up with her daughter's excited rambling without dropping back to sleep. Mike appeared next to their bed with a stern look on his face. "I told you not to wake Mommy up!"

Kayla looked at him with an impish smile on her face and Melinda watched the stern expression melt away instantly. She rolled her eyes in playful disgust at his weakness and shook her head. He grinned, eyes sparkling.

"_Power Rangers_ has already started," he said to their daughter.

The mention of her favorite show made Kayla gasp and scurry to get off of the bed. Mike lifted her up, spinning her upside down and making her squeal before setting her on her feet. He swatted her rear end playfully as the girl thundered down the hall toward the living room.

Melinda groaned and flopped over again. "Give me two more hours," she murmured, pressing the pillow into her face.

The bed dipped low and she felt him slide his arms around her waist before heavy pressure on her abdomen made her peek around the pillow.

"Ugh," she grumbled, trying to push him off from where he lay sprawled across her. He squirmed even further across her, making her laugh and gasp for air. "Mike…oof…quit it!"

His grinning face invaded her space and she shook her head, stretching forward to kiss him. He deepened the kiss unexpectedly, pressing her harder on her back and making her grunt. After a minute, he pulled away, his twinkling eyes reminiscent of the way their daughter's had looked a few moments earlier.

"Ooh, baby…" he said, grimacing playfully. "Go brush your teeth."

"Get off me," she said, laughing as she shoved him.

He leaned down and captured her lips for another kiss, brushing her hair against the pillow. "I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The room was silent, the television having been turned off almost an hour earlier. She had even turned the volume on the hotel telephone almost as low as it could go in her desperation not to risk becoming distracted.

Her thoughts were warring against each other, silently battling around her skull as she sat helpless to rein them in.

"_There were more than seven attackers."_

More than seven.

More than seven.

Her eyes squinted anxiously as she ripped a hand through her tangled, unwashed hair, her stomach clenched with nervousness.

This couldn't be happening….not now. This case was already dangerously close to slipping through her fingers and they hadn't even really had a proper trial yet. Another setback could loosen her grip to the point of losing it completely.

If that happened, she would never be able to live with herself.

She couldn't stop thinking of Elliot, despite the voice of her boss booming in her head, warning her about it. She just couldn't help it.

Jesus, how many people had brutalized the poor man? When she had first heard that seven men were in custody, she had been shocked. Now they were finding out that _more_ had been involved?

They most likely had gang-raped him. She hadn't gotten many cases of it in her years here, but it still happened and every time it made her sick. She tried to push the thought away, but she just couldn't. It made heartbreaking sense.

Here they had seven plus men… all convicted of felonies, all having lived prison life, all angry at having been locked away for years at a time….violence had been forced into their code.

Like any convict was going to pass on such an opportunity.

Casey had to shake herself to get the images out of her head and forced herself to focus. Grabbing a legal pad from beside her, she picked up a pencil and began scribbling messy notes.

_Why Elliot?_

From the limited experience she had with offenders out of prison, usually the case was that they acted on impulse and grabbed the first person they thought would be easy enough.

Elliot Stabler was a six-foot tall cop who obviously worked out and could intimidate pedestrians on the street with a simple furrowing of his eyebrows. Any person in their right mind would know they wouldn't stand a chance.

Olivia had been with him when he was taken, too…women are usually easier to dominate, but they hadn't touched her. In fact, they had gone _out of their way_ to make sure she wouldn't be a disturbance by handcuffing her to the stairs.

No way was this just an impulse grab. Those men had planned out every detail necessary, even going so far as call in a fake address and incapacitating his partner. They had only wanted him.

So, then…there could be a personal tie somewhere. Maybe one of them had come in contact with him before this? Had they seen him walking the street one day and become fixated?

Her brows furrowed as she added a dash and small note.

_Stalker?_

Tapping the pencil against her teeth, she continued thinking.

She knew from the media circulation that he had been missing for more than a month, so she felt safe in assuming that they had kept him at the house with them for the duration of the time.

Hmm….Niagara wasn't exactly a metropolis. How had the police known where to look?

She scribbled another note, her mind churning.

_Lucky find? Tip-off? _

A loud bang made her jump, knocking the pencil to the floor. Her heart hammered in surprise before she heard two men talking outside in the hallway. A moment later, she heard the sound of a vacuum running.

She looked at the clock and saw that it was almost ten after twelve.

Shit, Cragen was going to be there soon and she hadn't even gotten a shower yet. She was going to have to put this aside until later. There were bigger things to concentrate on right now.

Setting the pad on the bedside table, Casey hopped up and headed for the bathroom.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The walk to the car was silent. Neither one of them looked at each other as Kathy unlocked the doors.

Kathleen slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt, sighing heavily as she leaned her head back against the seat. Her mother stuck the keys in the ignition but made no move to start it, instead leaning back against her seat as well and folded her arms across her chest.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked hesitantly.

Kathy turned toward her with a sharp look that made the pit of her stomach start to tremble.

"I'm not taking you home," she said coldly. "I don't care how long I have to sit here until you get your act together, Kathleen, but you are going back to class."

Kathleen sighed inwardly and turned her head to gaze out the window. Thick silence blanketed the inside of the car as neither spoke.

"Ellen Malcolm got the goalie spot for Regionals," she said after a long time, keeping her gaze outside.

Kathy was so surprised to hear her actually speak that it took a minute to process what she said. When it sank in, her heart contracted immediately.

"Oh, sweetie," she said sympathetically. Being picked to go to the regional soccer tournament had been Kathleen's goal since 10th grade. The team spent countless hours practicing and her daughter had almost bordered on obsession. Feeling horrible, she leaned over toward her. "I'm sorry, Kat…I know how hard you worked for that."

Her daughter shifted further away, not coming near her support.

"Coach had to cut me from tryouts," she said, her voice starting to shake. "Because of attendance…my grades dropped too much and I didn't qualify anymore." She took another breath. "He said if I miss any more days, I have to leave the team."

The raw pain she heard in her daughter's voice made her heart ache. She swallowed, feeling the initial anger subsiding.

"Why aren't you going to school, Kat?" she asked softly.

The tone startled her. The harsh anger was gone and replaced with something akin to…sadness. Turning her head slowly, Kathleen looked at her mother and was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

"Why have you been lying to me?" Her mother's voice was frail and it scared her. For the first time, she saw crow's feet around her pretty blue eyes. "Do you know how much it hurts me?"

She continued to stare in shock as tears began slipping down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry that I can't give you guys as much as I could when your father and I were still married," she went on quietly. "But I'm trying…so hard." She swallowed again, starting to feel slightly dizzy.

"Please don't push me out of your life. I love you so much…don't you know that I would do anything for you, Elliot?"

His name slipped out so softly that her daughter didn't even hear it because by this time she was crying too. Kathy began to shake, blinking rapidly and gasping for breath.

As much as she wanted to comfort her daughter, she couldn't. She was absolutely frozen.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist so suddenly that she was wrenched off balance. The crushing pain that immediately began numbing her skin made Olivia gasp unintentionally as she turned back toward him in shock.

The expression on his face made her feel like she was going to vomit. She literally felt her stomach muscles contracting in anticipation of emptying the contents.

It was the exact same look that she'd seen the night he had been found….the sheer terror that had taken over his entire face as she crouched next to him on the boat, anchoring him with her hands so he wouldn't slide.

"Elliot," she said thickly.

_Don't cry. Don't cry._

She fingered his iron grip with her other hand, forcing herself to pry the shaking fingers apart. "Honey-"

His voice shook as he tightened his grasp ruthlessly, his eyes wobbly with fat tears waiting to fall.

"Please," he gasped, practically wheezing with panic. "I can't. Please don't do it. Please don't do it."

His tearful pleading tore into her chest, stabbing her heart over and over.

Doctor Beck had arranged a careful dose of sedatives two hours ago to make sure he would remain relaxed while the identification took place. Elliot had fought it as best he could but was unable to match wits with the power of Vicodin.

That had changed the minute they heard the knock on the door.

He clawed at her desperately, the tears dropping steadily onto his neck. "I don't want to," he whimpered. "Please, Olivia…tell them I changed my mind. Please tell them I changed my mind."

Another knock on the door.

Pursing her lips sadly, she leaned down, nearly pulled off her feet as she allowed him to cling tightly to her.

"Shh, baby," she murmured, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his head. She felt sobs racking his back as she rubbed soothingly up and down. "Elliot, we talked about this, remember? It's just pictures. All you have to do is look at pictures."

"I'm sorry," he whispered painfully, his hand clutching the back of her shirt almost frantically. "I'm sorry, Olivia….I know that. I know that, I- I just-"

She stroked through his hair tenderly. "It's alright," she said warmly. "It's alright, honey. There's nothing to be sorry about."

She pulled away then, forcing him to break contact gently, and looked into his face.

"I'm going to be right here," she reminded him, cupping his cheek. "Nobody is going to hurt you…I'm going to be right here."

She wiped the tears from his face and ran her hand up into his hair. She leaned toward the end of the bed for a moment and retrieved the stuffed rabbit, tucking it into his arm before turning to go to the door.

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"Okay," she said softly. "Are you ready, Elliot?"

He clutched Olivia's hand tightly beside him as his eyes darted to where Dwight Haskins was standing near the door.

"Does he have to come over here?" he asked fearfully.

Olivia winced painfully, rubbing his fist as her eyes sought Casey's with panic.

"No," the attorney said with assurance. "Mr. Haskins is just going to stand right there…he won't come over here if you don't want him to."

He swallowed hard, looking at Olivia anxiously. She responded with a reassuring smile and squeeze on his hand.

"Are you ready?" Casey asked again, silently pleading for him to be ready so they could do this as quickly as possible.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

_It's just pictures. It's just pictures._

He didn't realize he had nodded until he suddenly felt hard cardstock against his arm. Opening his eyes, he saw Casey with her hand over a file folder that she had placed down in front of him.

Looking at her hesitantly, he exhaled slowly and took it from her, turning it right side up as he drew it closer to him.

Photographs of eight men were looking out at him.

His eyes squeezed shut again on instinct. Olivia's hand came around the back of his neck and her voice was in his ear suddenly.

"It's okay," she whispered warmly. "I'm right here, sweetheart….you feel me?" Her hand squeezed his. "I'm right beside you."

He could feel himself shaking and he hadn't even taken a glimpse yet.

"What if I get it wrong?" he whispered dreadfully. "What if I pick the wrong one, Olivia?"

The thought made adrenaline surge through him quickly. He hadn't even thought of it until now. If he picked the wrong person, the whole thing would be ruined. They would go free…and then they could come find him.

"Oh, God," he moaned, his head dropping to his chest.

"Hey."

He felt hands on his shoulders as he recognized Casey's voice and it surprised him so much that he opened his eyes to look at her. She gazed at him warmly, her touch light.

"Don't even think about that," she said softly. "Don't think about any of that, Elliot. Okay?" Her green eyes were warm. "There's no rush. Just relax and look when you're ready."

Blowing out a shaky breath, he met her eyes for a moment before looking to Olivia again. Squeezing her hand tightly, he finally looked down at the file again.

He studied the first one.

_It could be this one…_

He studied the second one.

_No, not this one._

He studied the third one.

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah." _

_The grunts were throaty and excited as the man squeezed his penis in time to the sounds, thrusting him up so hard that he felt himself come off the ground._

_He was panting, jerking him over and over and over and over and…_

The shudder ripped through him so violently that he almost dropped the file.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sudden blanch startled her. Before Casey could react, Olivia was wrapping her arm around his shoulder quickly, pulling herself closer.

"Which one is it, sweetie?" she said softly, her eyes bright. She was squeezing his shoulder hard, like she wanted to engulf him with her body. "Who do you see, Elliot?"

"There's no coaching allowed," Haskins said softly, from his position.

His voice surprised her and she turned toward him with a glare. But she was even more surprised when she saw a look of pain on the man's face instead of the arrogance she usually saw there.

"For you," Olivia snapped harshly, smoldering him with her eyes. "It's not my job to get a conviction and I wasn't coaching."

"Olivia," Casey admonished quietly, looking at her. The brown eyes bored into her as she shook her head gently. The fire was replaced with pain quickly and she turned back to her partner. She pursed her lips lightly. "Take your time, Elliot."

"Number three," he said.

She didn't ask if he was sure.

Photograph number three was Jeffrey Pendleton.

"Alright," she said lightly, keeping her face composed. _One down. _ "That's good, Elliot. You're doing great." She reached out to take the file, picking up the second from the bedside table. "Now these."

The intense stare that she had always secretly loved to watch burned into the file as he took it from her and the silence fell again.

He studied each one long and hard, gazing down the first row and biting his lip. His brow furrowed as he came to the second row and gave it the same attention.

His gaze stopped at the last one and he blinked slowly, looking uncertain.

"I think…." He squinted slightly, looking distressed, and paused. "I…I-don't…" His voice trailed off and he went back to the first row.

_No, no, no…go back, go back…_

She silently pleaded with him to return to the one he had been looking at. He was right there, Elliot had been right. It was Ethan Jones he was looking at…she needed this one more than any of the others.

_Go back, Elliot, come on…_

"Is…is it number…" He bit his lip, his eyes darting to hers in fear. "I...I'm not sure." His voice was shaking and she could see tears in his eyes. "It could be more than one of them."

Her heart jumped frantically but Casey maintained her cool.

"It's alright," she said with assurance. "It's alright, Elliot, relax. We'll come back to this one. It's alright."

She could almost make bet that Haskins was silently fuming over in his corner, but since he hadn't said any number the man could explode for all she cared.

She took it from his hand with an encouraging smile. "You need to take a minute?" she asked gently.

Olivia ran her hand over his forehead, a move that surprised her, but Elliot just shook his head curtly.

"Just do it," he said rapidly, his words rushed.

There was panic in his eyes now. Her stomach began to flutter nervously but she pushed it aside and handed him a third file.

The procedure dragged on painstakingly. The next two he identified right away- Matt Lucas and John Hughes were nailed. The third took a moment, but he confirmed on Travis Sutton.

The next file in the stack took longer than any of the others and she found herself holding her breath as she watched him looking at each picture hard.

His face screwed up suddenly and she saw tears brimming in his eyes. Olivia saw it too and was quick to cradle his neck.

"Relax," she crooned gently. She began placing her hand over the file, trying to ease it out of his hand. "Take a break, Elliot…relax, honey."

His hand tightened on the file, startling her, and he exhaled tearfully.

"Number four," he said, looking at Casey. "Number four…Jason Evans is number four."

Casey wanted to shout with excitement. Her pulse raced with relief.

_Thank God. He got Evans…thank God. _

His breath blew out hard and he sank against the pillow, tears streaming down his face. Olivia brought her hand to his forehead again and he suddenly burst into sobs.

Casey watched in horror, feeling like her heart was being stomped on.

_My fault…this is my fault._

His partner was leaning over at once, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and turning her back to the others in the room. She hugged him close, whispering soothing words that neither of the others could make out.

The whole time they stood watching quietly, Casey kept waiting for Haskins to open his mouth. She was bracing herself for the snide comment or brusque complaint to come out.

But he never said one word.

Her attention was brought back to the bed when she heard Elliot gulp and sniffle wetly. His face was draped on Olivia's shoulder, his hand circling her neck loosely. He closed his eyes as she gently rubbed the back of his neck, weariness on his expression.

The image was so heartbreaking that it made tears pool in her eyes and she had to bite her lip hard.

"He needs to rest," she said softly, her back still turned.

"We're out of here," Casey said quickly. She hurried to gather the files, handing them to Haskins absently. "I'll be outside, Olivia, in case you-"

"Don't." His weary voice interrupted her softly and he struggled away from Olivia. He shook his head, looking at her with red eyes. "I'll finish it."

She could see the look of agony on Olivia's face as she looked at him uncertainly.

"Elliot," she said softly. "We'll come back…really, it's no problem. Why don't you give yourself a break and we'll try for the rest later?"

His face was agitated. "No, I don't **want **to do this again!" he burst out almost hysterically. "Just let me finish it now, Casey, please! I want to finish it now!"

She looked at him in despair, nodding automatically. "Okay," she said, swallowing. She moved to take the files from Haskins again. "Okay, that's fine."

Haskins extracted one of the remaining files and handed it to her. Olivia eased back away with a look of reluctance on her face but said nothing as Casey came back to the bed.

"Okay, here you go," she said softly, handing it to him. "This is the one you looked at before." She bit her lip. "Just take your time, Elliot."

Elliot sighed tearfully, looking like he was trying to compose himself as he pulled it towards him.

"Number seven," he said after looking them over for a minute. He pointed his finger at the picture and pushed it back at her quickly. "Are we done?"

Casey exchanged a quick, startled glance with Olivia as she took the file back.

_Number seven…Ethan Jones. I'll be damned._

"Um…one more," she stammered, taking the last file Haskins was extending towards her.

Elliot examined it for a long time, struggling to stay focused. He looked like he was going to fall asleep on the file.

"That one," he finally said, pointing to the third picture on the second row.

She contained her wide smile and simply nodded as she took it from him. Olivia looked at her anxiously and she nodded again softly to signal they had finished. Taking the cue, the detective sat down on the bed and wrapped Elliot into her arms once more.

"Here," Casey said softly, turning toward the other man. She handed him the last file. "Thanks, Dwight. I appreciate you meeting me here."

Haskins looked at her for a long time before he nodded silently and walked out of the room. She turned back and timidly approached the bed.

"Shh…you did wonderful, baby. You did so wonderful," Olivia was crooning to him. His face was hidden against her shoulder as she held him tightly. She rocked him gently, her hands caressing his neck with gentle tenderness.

"Hey," she said softly, biting her lip. She placed a gentle hand on his back. "You did great, Elliot. Thank you."

He didn't raise his head or respond to either one of them. After a minute, Olivia glanced at her and shook her head silently.

Nodding gently, Casey risked a chance and leaned down, placing a small kiss on his exposed temple.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, rubbing his back slowly for a minute.

Closing her eyes, she stood upright. Without looking at Olivia again, she walked out the door and closed it quietly behind her.

"How did it go?" Don Cragen asked softly, standing from his chair as soon as she came out.

She felt herself breaking down. All she could do was shake her head as she hurried past him.

The captain's face was drawn up sadly as he looked at the closed door and back at Casey's retreating form.

A sob escaped as she turned the corner and she let it come, her hands shaking.

"Hey."

The voice startled her. Sucking in a breath quickly, she turned to see Dwight Haskins standing where she had just turned. She swallowed, her face morphing into a mask of hardness at once.

"Do you need something?" she asked woodenly, raising an eyebrow dangerously.

His face was unreadable as his eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell Detective Stabler that I said good job," he said softly.

She knew the shock was as obvious on her face as it was inside.

Before she could think of a reply, he had turned and walked away.

"What did he say?" The captain's voice was defensive as the older man suddenly came up behind her.

She blinked in disbelief, unable to speak. He looked at her worriedly.

"Casey?" he persisted.

Shaking her head, the attorney blew out a shaky breath.

"Come on," she said, turning towards him. Her voice was drained. "I think I need a cup of coffee."


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Yeah, so…400 is a nice, lovely, round number.**

**That's all I'm saying.**

He barely made it to the bathroom in time.

Gasping, John hit his knees fast and lifted the toilet seat with shaking fingers. He wasn't able to lift the outer rim before he became helpless to the vomiting.

The moon was directly in the center of the window frame above the toilet and the light was so bright that it made him squint each time he came up for air.

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"_Morning," she said brightly, coming through the door. "How-?" _

_The words died in her throat when she saw the lights off. Her hand automatically went to the light switch. _

_Nothing happened._

"_Gary?" she called out in confusion, flipping the switch again. Still nothing. Furrowing her brow, she retrieved the penlight from her jacket pocket. "Hello?"_

_The small beam barely broke through the blackness, but she was still able to see the outline of the body on the slab. Looking around again, she carefully made her way towards it and stepped up to the metal table._

_Shining her light over the sheet, she came up to where the face was covered and hesitated before slowly bringing back the cloth._

_His blue eyes were wide and frenzied staring up at her, his jaw slackened. As she stared down at him in horror, one arm slowly came out from under the sheet and extended toward her, fingers groping pleadingly._

_She screamed…and screamed…and screamed…_

"Mel…Mel!"

The deep shout suddenly registered in her subconscious and she jumped, gasping. Almost immediately Mike's voice was in her ear.

"Relax, baby, it's me…it's me," he said worriedly, tightening his arms around her body. "It was a dream, Mel, just a dream."

It took another few seconds for Melinda to realize that her husband was curled around her, nearly covering her. His hands were against the back of her head, cradling her against his chest.

"I've got you," he continued whispering, rubbing over her shoulders gently. "I've got you."

She blinked in confusion. Reaching her hand shakily to her face, she was shocked to find it soaked.

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There wasn't a clock in the room, so she had no way of knowing what time she had finally fallen asleep. But she had counted 300 of Elliot's breaths before her eyes had been unable to open again after she blinked.

She wondered if Kathy had experienced the same.

Olivia stretched and sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep no matter how much her body begged her to. She could tell by the light peeking from behind the closed blinds that it was morning but judging from the quiet halls she guessed not very late.

Quietly lifting her legs from the edge of the mattress, she placed her stocking feet on the floor as her eyes traveled up to the head of the bed.

He slept deeply, mouth parted slightly, and she could hear soft whistling from his nose each time he exhaled. The arm containing the IV was sprawled overtop of the blanket and resting on the stuffed rabbit that was squished against the railing.

Her lips pursed sadly and she turned her head to look behind her.

Kathy lay sprawled on her stomach, also still asleep. The hospital-issued blanket she had been using was bunched up near her knees as if she had kicked it off of her sometime during the night. Her right arm hung off of the cot so far that her fingers nearly touched the floor.

Crossing around the bed, Olivia approached the window and poked her fingers through the slats in the blinds.

The sky was grey and overcast, clouds banded together warning of precipitation. Below her, an ambulance was rolling into the loading dock. Cars already packing the parking lot and she wondered if they all belonged to hospital staff.

She stepped away from the blinds and turned around again, running her hands through her hair and grimacing at the greasiness.

_How many days ago did I use Casey's room?_

She realized with a start that she couldn't remember.

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The wind whipping around her felt like pure ice. The whistling sound it created brought back long-ago memories of watching _The Wizard of Oz_ with her little nephew the last time she had traveled back home.

She hated that movie.

Shivering, Casey shrank deeper inside her wool coat and quickened her pace across the asphalt toward the building.

Muffled ringing came to her attention as she was climbing the courthouse steps. She ignored it until she had gotten to the top and then reluctantly pulled off one glove, groping with numb fingers through her purse as she pulled open the glass door.

"Casey Novak," she answered, her voice slightly breathless from exertion and cold.

People chattered and scurried towards their destination all around her, making it difficult for her to hear anything being said by Don Cragen on the other end. Wincing, she pressed the phone tighter against her ear and plugged the other with her finger.

Shaking her head in frustration, she let out a small huff. "Hold on, Don," she said. "I can hardly hear you…hang on a minute."

Searching with her eyes as she strode across the linoleum, she ducked into the first corner that she saw that was less populated. Almost immediately the other end of the line became clearer.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I can hear you much better now. What were you saying?"

"I still have to talk to Olivia," Cragen said hesitantly. "But I think now would be a good time to try and get his statement." She could hear the heaviness in his voice. "His memory was obviously freshened given his reaction to the identification and he'll be most likely able to tell us more details if we get it done sooner."

She nodded numbly, barely comprehending the waste of motion considering he couldn't see it.

"Do you need me to be there?" she asked softly.

She knew that victim's statements didn't require her presence. She wasn't asking as an assistant district attorney.

"It's going to be difficult enough trying to get him to talk about it," Don said quietly. "I think it would be best if it was just Olivia and I in there."

His tone was apologetic, like he was afraid of her reaction, and she was quick to assure him otherwise.

"I understand," she said. "Give me a call later?"

He paused for a long moment.

"Casey," he began slowly. "Do you think…." He paused again. "How soon do you need me to hand over the tape to you?"

The tone of his voice and shakiness in his words made it clear exactly what he was thinking but was afraid to say.

"I'll need to listen to it eventually," she said. "I don't have a problem with you keeping it for a little….but I'm afraid it can't be too long because I still have to let Haskins have a turn before I show the judge."

"No, that's fine," he said quickly. Relief was evident in his voice. "I'll give it to you right away. I just….I think I might need time to hear it again." He sighed. "Thank you Casey…thank you so much."

Her voice softened. "It's not a problem," she said. She pursed her lips hesitantly. "Good luck."

Silence filled the phone.

"Thanks," he finally replied.

His voice was quiet and didn't sound like his.

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"Curtis," Lieutenant Barry said urgently, stepping out of the office. "Walker."

His head came up instinctively at the tone and he paused in his writing, looking at the lieutenant.

Sitting at the desk by the window, Detective Alan Curtis looked up as well.

"Narcotics has Shane George in their custody," he said. "I've cleared it with their captain for us to bring him in."

His partner, Samuel Walker, nodded as they both stood. "Got it," he affirmed, stepping around their desk.

Fin couldn't stop the incredulous look from taking over his face as he watched the two detectives leave the squad room.

Shane George was suspected of possessing child pornography and had been eluding their grasp for almost three weeks…he and Munch had been the original pair assigned to the case.

Now a pair of third-grade detectives had taken over.

Clenching his teeth, he looked back down at the file he was working on.

**Name: **Leon Geraldo Williams

**DOB: **11/27/1959

**Arresting Officer: **Michael F. Dombardi

On December 28, 2006, at 11:14 pm, Dispatch reported shots fired at 1325 Sewells Terrace in the Hunts Point sector of the Bronx. Officer James Woods and I arrived on scene at 11:17 and requested immediate back-up. Four African-American males were seen exiting apartment 3B approximately later, all wearing what appeared to be gang insignia. Upon our approach, they fled the scene, inciting a foot pursuit involving Officer Woods and myself as we split up.

All four men were apprehended and upon frisking were all discovered possessing marijuana. They were then arrested and brought to the 1-3 precinct in the Bronx where charges are being filed….

He had to stop then before the scoff could escape his mouth.

This was unbelievable.

Here he was, a second-grade detective for almost seven years working in the Sex Crimes Unit in Manhattan, and he was being asked to do filing for a Narcotics unit that wasn't even in their borough.

What was happening to his life?

Shaking his head in annoyance, he brought his head up again and his gaze landed on the desk beside his.

_I'm not doing any good to him here._

Every fiber in his being was itching to be in Buffalo. He needed to be _there_, with his friend, supporting him…not shooting the shit at a desk pushing papers around!

But he couldn't just sit there without being able to help him. He couldn't. There was just no way. The moment he saw him all he would think about was those seven bastards and how much he was aching to inflict as much damage on them as they had done to Elliot.

"_Tell me you don't want to do the same thing…look me right in the god damned eyes and tell me you don't want to do the exact **same thing**!"_

The only reason he was sitting here right now was because John had gotten to Evans first. Now he was on suspension and very likely to be fired if something drastic didn't happen, and Fin was spending all his time pretending for the sake of his partner that he was ignorant to the whole incident.

_Congratulations, partner. You called my bluff. _

Balling his hands into fists, he pushed the file away roughly and reached for the phone.

Enough bullshit. Elliot deserved _all_ of their attention and it wasn't fair to him what they were doing.

This dance had gone on long enough.

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He eased his eyes open slowly, groaning softly.

His body felt heavy, like he was in a fog, and it was an uncomfortable feeling. It felt like lead was pounding through his forehead.

A shooting pain stabbed up his ribs the moment he inhaled. Wincing, Elliot drew in a sharp breath and shifted slightly to relieve some of the aching pressure.

Turning his head gently to the side, he saw Olivia curled into the chair a few feet away. Her right leg was tucked under her body with the other bent parallel to the floor. Grey socks were on her feet and her toes were wiggling slightly as she hunched over her book.

She appeared deeply focused and didn't notice that he was awake. He quickly shifted his gaze so that she wouldn't feel his stare.

His eyes traveled down to the hand lying at his side.

The tape holding the IV in place stretched across the back of his palm, from pinky to thumb. The ugly indentations on his wrist were puffy and inflamed, the skin mangled with rope burn.

His throat contracted and tears burned his eyes.

Blinking rapidly, he moved gently so that he could see his other arm. The heavy cast was awkward. His arm constantly tingled from numbness and his fingers were taped too tightly together to move. The urge to move them was sometimes so agitating that it made him want to cry.

A shiver coursed up his spine and he shuddered, pulling the blanket further up toward his neck slowly. He could never seem to get warm no matter how hard he tried. It was so…

The sound of the doorknob being turned made the hairs on his arm stand up.

He froze, his mouth going dry, and unconsciously clutched the edges of the blanket tighter.

Doctor Beck poked his head in hesitantly and smiled warmly, seeing him awake.

"Good morning," he said, stepping inside.

Olivia's head snapped up towards the voice quickly. "Good morning," she said, standing.

He smiled at her then gazed towards the bed. "How are you feeling this morning, Elliot?" he asked kindly.

Startled, she whipped back around. "Elliot," she said in surprise, striding quickly beside him. "I'm sorry…I didn't know you were awake."

She noticed he was staring apprehensively at Doctor Beck. Laying her hand over his, she turned back toward the doctor with an apologetic expression.

Tugging on her hand made her look at him again. He cleared his throat scratchily, attempting to speak, and couldn't. Trying a second time made his throat itch and he started coughing.

Olivia squeezed his hand, turning back towards the doctor. "Could you get a nurse to bring us some ice, please?"

Doctor Beck pursed his lips thoughtfully, a small grin on his face.

"How would you like to try a little bit of water?" he continued, eyebrows rising enticingly. "Do you think you're up for that?"

Elliot swallowed instinctively. His throat was so dry it hurt. He eyed the man warily for a minute before nodding slowly.

"I'll be right back," he said with a smile.

Olivia turned around and intertwined her fingers with his, smiling tenderly.

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She slipped the last photograph into a manila envelope and sealed it before sticking it into the larger envelope. Taking the black Sharpie from beside her elbow, Melinda carefully labeled the large envelope and reached for the roll of packing tape. Her hands forcefully pressed the tape over the flap.

"Got those printouts you wanted," Gary said, announcing his presence as he came through the door. "You want a screen run now?"

"No," she said. She turned around so abruptly that her lab coat swished and saw a look of surprise pass over the young man's face. Her voice softened immediately. "No, it's not necessary. I need you to go ahead and prepare toe tags for the three we received this morning."

He nodded in surprise. "Sure," he said. She turned around again and began gathering the envelope and a few files under her arm. "Where you going?"

She strode past him without a second glance, grabbing her keys from the jacket pocket.

"To make a delivery," she called over her shoulder.

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The muffled ringing startled him slightly and his eyes flew toward hers quickly. Olivia reached into her pocket to retrieve the phone, unlacing her hand from his reluctantly.

"Benson," she answered.

His worried eyes traveled with her across the room and she smiled reassuringly as she stopped a few feet away from the door.

"Here we go."

A blond-haired nurse stepped into the room, followed by Doctor Beck. She was holding a plastic cup with a straw and smiling widely.

His eyes zeroed in on the doctor again and he tensed before he even realized it. The doctor must have read his mind because he didn't move toward the bed, instead stopping beside Olivia with a gentle smile as the nurse continued toward him.

The woman set the cup down on the table and reached for the control button.

"I'm going to have you sit up," she explained as the bed began slowly reclining. "It will make it easier for you to drink, but if anything starts to hurt let me know and we'll get you back flat again." Another friendly smile. "Okay?"

He nodded, looking past her. Olivia was turned slightly to the side now and the tense expression was recognizable even from his position. She said something in a low voice and he couldn't make out what it was.

"Here you go," the nurse said gently, bringing the cup towards him.

He continued looking at Olivia, his brow scrunched worriedly. Something was up. He could tell.

Seeing he wasn't paying attention, the woman patiently set the cup back down.

Olivia snapped the phone closed and shoved it back into her pocket quickly. She turned back towards them with an expression of nonchalance that he could tell was fake the second she faced him.

"What's wrong?" he asked instantly as she approached the bed again.

He recognized a forced smile. "Nothing," she said casually, glancing at the cup on the table. "Aren't you thirsty?"

"Who was that?" he persisted.

"No one," she replied. He stared at her insistently. She avoided his eyes, instead reaching out to grab the cup and smiling gently. "Here."

The craving for the liquid was unbearable. She held the cup out in front of him and he wrapped his fingers around the straw awkwardly, steadying it as he lifted it to his mouth.

The first sensation of cold liquid splashing his tongue was so foreign that his lips puckered instinctively to spit it back out. It only lasted a second and when he swallowed pure bliss overcame his features.

The look was impossible not to react to. Olivia found her lips spreading into a delightful smile instantly as she watched him take another sip. This one he held in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.

"How's that feel, Elliot?" Doctor Beck had quietly stepped up to join them, a wise move on his part in her opinion, and was also smiling at his enjoyment. He nodded at him encouragingly. "Good, isn't it?"

His nervousness around the man seemed almost forgotten as he sucked up the liquid even faster in response to his words, gulping the water greedily.

The expression on the doctor's face shifted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing slowly.

"Easy," he warned, a hint of authority in his voice. It surprised Olivia and she looked at him uneasily when he stepped up closer to her. His hand began reaching out. "Not so-"

The precaution wasn't fast enough. Elliot suddenly gagged hard, the liquid audibly coming back up his throat. Before Olivia could react, the straw was being extracted from his lips as the doctor pulled the cup away slightly.

"You're alright," he said calmly as the panicky sensation made Elliot gag again and he gasped in air tearfully. "You're fine…you're alright."

"It's okay, Elliot," Olivia jumped in, seeing his face about to crumble. She took his hand again, rubbing it soothingly as Doctor Beck set the cup back on the table. "You're not used to it….you need to take it slow."

"Hey, cheer up," Doctor Beck said warmly, cocking his head slightly. "You were able to get at least four good sips down. That's incredible considering how long you were without proper hydration, Elliot."

The discouragement in his eyes broke her heart. She bit her lip slightly and glanced at the doctor.

He looked at Elliot sympathetically. "I need to take a look at your surgeries," he said quietly.

He tensed immediately, scooting towards the wall and shaking his head. The crushing grip on her fingers forced Olivia to move closer to the bed as he pulled her with him. She shot an apologetic look towards the other man.

"Elliot," she began hesitantly.

"No, it's alright," the doctor interrupted kindly. He stepped slowly closer to the bed and she gave him points for not trying to crowd their space. When he spoke, his voice was soft and calm. "Elliot, are you ready to go home?"

That triggered the desired reaction. His wary expression morphed into a look of despair mixed with hopefulness and he nodded.

The doctor nodded too. "I'm sure you are," he continued gently. He looked at him carefully while Olivia watched silently, intrigued. "Elliot, the sooner we get you feeling better, the sooner you can go home. I can't tell how long that will take if you won't let me take a look at you."

Her partner's face crumbled so helplessly that it made her lose her breath. She instinctively clasped his hand tighter, rubbing her hand over the skin.

The doctor's green eyes were warm. "I know this is going to be difficult," he said. "But I'm going to have to ask for you to trust me. I promise you I'm not going to do anything to frighten you. I promise."

The silence that fell when he stopped speaking was tense.

"He won't try to hurt you," Olivia said. Her arm came around to wrap securely around his shoulder. "I've got you…you know I won't let him hurt you, sweetheart. I promise I won't let him."

Teary blue eyes looked desperately into hers. She pursed her lips nervously, gazing at him pleadingly and nodding.

An expression of misery overtook his face and knives plunged into her heart. His face came down against her arm and disappeared from sight.

Looking tearfully at the doctor, Olivia nodded painfully. He nodded back and moved toward the foot of the bed.

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"Cragen," he answered, sliding into the car. He turned the ignition and immediately cranked up the heat.

"When can we talk?"

Don knew immediately what Fin was saying, but still couldn't contain his surprise. It took him a minute to answer.

"I'm going to be heading back in a few hours," he said. He paused a minute, anticipating the reaction he was going to be getting. "I'm on my way to get Elliot's statement."

The detective felt his heart fly to his throat.

_Oh, God._

The silence drew out and the captain finally spoke again. "I'll give you a call when I get home."

"Okay," Fin said softly. Silence again. "Captain…" He cleared his throat. "Tell him we're thinking about him."

Don smiled gently. "You got it," he said softly. "Talk to you later."

Once he heard Fin disconnect, Cragen hung up himself and dialed another number. His eyes darted anxiously around as he waited for an answer.

"Benson," she said softly.

"Olivia," he said. "I'm on my way."

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Sucking up a large mouthful of soda through the straw, she sat back against the chair restlessly and sighed through her nose.

Her meeting with Haskins that morning had been a pain in the ass, reminding her exactly why she had been so surprised to hear his kind words at the hospital yesterday. The man frustrated her to no end.

He had refused to confer with his clients concerning the identifications, claiming that Elliot's behavior in the hospital had been "questionable". He had actually had the nerve to accuse her of allowing Olivia to coach him during those moments Elliot had broken down and she had been comforting him.

As much as she wanted to laugh at the man's outrageous behavior, she was frankly too concerned about what was happening at the hospital at the moment to really give her argument much effort. She simply told him she would be coming back after getting his statement to talk to them and left the building.

Haskins was currently keeping the photographs with him, so she had been spending the past…she paused to check her watch….three hours now sharpening her notes for when she would be confronting the defendants.

_I really could use the results of that rape kit right about now…_

Her cell phone rang almost the moment she had that thought. She paused a minute, startled, and then reached for it.

"Casey Novak," she answered.

"Casey, it's Melinda Warner," the woman said by way of greeting. Her eyes literally bugged out in shock and she couldn't stop from gasping out loud. The other woman started in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"No-nothing," she said quickly, shaking herself. "Sorry, nothing. What can I do for you?"

"I'm coming up on the Buffalo exit," Melinda said. "I've got the rape kit with me."

"Are you serious?" Casey asked in surprise.

Her voice softened. "I promised I'd deliver it personally," she said. "I'm good on my word, Casey."

"God, you're amazing," she said, standing up quickly. "Would you like me to come meet you?"

"No, it's okay," she said. "I'll come to you. I was planning to stop in and see Elliot while I'm here."

Nausea began creeping up. "Oh," she said weakly, swallowing. "Um…well-that…I don't think that's such a good idea at the moment, actually."

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A sharp knock from the open doorway made her start in surprise. Turning her chair around, she was met with the smiling face of Heather Smith, a coworker two offices down.

"Hi," she said brightly. "Am I interrupting?"

Kathy blew out a weary breath, pushing her hands through her hair. "Yes," she breathed, grinning broadly. "And I can't thank you enough."

The brunette grimaced sympathetically. "Rough day?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Well…if three cancellations, one misdirected address, and a pending lawsuit counts as 'rough'," she said lightly. "Then I guess so."

"Lawsuit?" Heather said incredulously. She scoffed, coming into the office. "Oh, honey…you need one of these."

Stepping over to her, the woman extended an open round tin out towards her. Looking inside, Kathy discovered a pile of iced gingerbread men. She laughed out loud.

"Leftovers?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm up to my neck in them," the brunette said in disgust. "My mother-in-law baked enough to feed four generations."

"Mmm, love that," Kathy emphasized dryly, helping herself to two of the baked treats.

"That's all you're going to take?" Heather said in disbelief. "Come on…help me out here." She shook the tin empathetically, looking at her pleadingly. "You've got kids to feed."

Chuckling, she shook her head and obediently took two more.

"That's it," she said firmly. "I've already got my own stash to work through, thank you very much."

Heather bit into her own cookie and set the tin down on the edge of Kathy's desk, lifting herself up to sit beside it.

"Hey," she said, her tone turning serious. Her face was soft. "How is Elliot doing?"

Kathy swallowed the cookie hard.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He stood outside nervously, waiting for Olivia to answer his knock. In his pocket was the same tape recorder he had been afraid to touch for the past two weeks.

The door opened.

They stood staring at each other for a long moment. He swallowed hard, preparing to speak, but she surprised him by doing it first.

"Hi, Cap," she said softly.

He was struck by the look in her eyes. She looked devastated.

She turned back inside without another word, leaving him to follow. Don swallowed hard, aware of his heartbeat now raging in his ears, and went in as well.

Olivia went to the side of the bed but he didn't even really notice her. His entire world seemed to stop when he saw Elliot. He had to swallow hard to keep himself in check. The urge to swoop him up into a death grip was almost overwhelming.

"Hello, Elliot," he said softly.

Elliot ducked his head and swallowed. The look of shame on his face broke Don's heart.

"Hi, Captain." His voice was whisper-thin.

He took a pained breath, biting his lip slightly. "How are you doing?" he continued.

After receiving no further response, he glanced at Olivia. She pursed her lips and shook her head sympathetically. The captain decided he needed to get it done before one or all of them lost their nerve. Taking another deep breath, he withdrew the tape recorder slowly.

_God give me strength…please give me strength._

"Wait," Elliot suddenly burst out. "I…please, can…"

_Jesus, he's trembling. Elliot Stabler is trembling._

"Please," he continued thickly, swallowing hard. "Please stay there, Captain….can you stay there?"

The look of fear on the detective's face made tears form in his eyes.

"Sure," he said gently, nodding immediately. "Sure, I will." He eyed the chair. "I'll just sit right here, by the door. Is that okay?

His eyes were teary as he lifted his head to look at Don for a moment before dropping it again. Cragen grabbed hold of the chair and carried it back across the room, setting it down gently.

He sat down, fingering the tape recorder anxiously.

"Alright," he said, looking at them warmly. He took a breath. "Elliot, do you know what I need from you?"

Elliot remained with his head bowed for a long moment before nodding slowly, eyes on the bed.

"Okay," he said, a little awkwardly. "Okay…good. Good." He paused hesitantly. "Are you ready to do it now?"

He was horrified to see Elliot's shoulders beginning to shake. He looked at Olivia in alarm and saw her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know if I can remember." His voice was so soft that Cragen barely heard him.

Olivia spoke before he could. "Hey," she said tenderly, bringing her hand to his face. "It's alright, honey." Her expression was loving and pained at the same time. "We're going to help you…don't worry. We're going to help you."

She squeezed his hand encouragingly and glanced over at Cragen.

"That's right, Elliot," he said quickly, nodding. "Just relax. We'll go nice and slow, I promise. Okay?"

Elliot blew out a tense breath and shifted slightly, clinging more securely to her hand. She smiled gently and immediately wrapped her fingers tightly around his.

Don raised the tape recorder to his face and spoke into it.

"Captain Donald Cragen, Manhattan Special Victims Unit," he said. "This is the testimony of Elliot Stabler, witnessed by Detective Olivia Benson, December 29, 2006." He glanced down at his watch. "At 1:30 in the afternoon."

He set the recorder on his knee and looked toward the bed. Elliot was stiff, his expression anxious as he kept his gaze away from him.

"Okay," he said delicately. "Elliot…can you tell me about the day the men took you?"

His face screwed up for a second before straightening again. A long pause followed.

"I…I don't really remember," he said quietly, biting his lip.

"Okay…well, that's okay," Don said assuringly. "What's the first thing you do remember?"

He sat for a moment in deep thought. Olivia bit her lip and waited, exhaling nervously.

"I couldn't move," he said finally. His eyes darted frantically and his jaw twitched.

"We were driving and my…my hands were behind my back and there was tape on my mouth and I…I couldn't move."

Olivia watched her partner close his eyes. A distressed noise came from his mouth.

"What kind of vehicle were you riding in?" Cragen asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"A van," he said softly. He paused. "It was loud inside, like the fan belt was bad or something."

_Bingo. Proof of abduction._

"There was…he had a gun against my forehead," he said shakily. His eyes shot open, darting frantically to where Don sat a few feet away. "I heard him cock it and he told me….he told me he would shoot me if I made any noise…"

His voice became hysterical. "I wanted to fight back but I couldn't move!" Tears began spilling onto his cheeks. "I was afraid…I'm sorry, Captain." He sobbed brokenly, bowing his head in shame. "I was afraid."

Don felt his heart cracking and he had to fight tears.

_Is he honestly expecting that I would be upset with him for not fighting? God, what kind of bastard am I?_

"Elliot, it's okay," he said tenderly. "It's okay that you were afraid."

Olivia had tears in her eyes as she held his hand gently, but didn't try to move closer to him. Don closed his eyes for a moment to get himself under control.

_Focus, Cragen…help him focus._

"Could you see out of any windows while you were in the van?" he asked.

He shook his head, sniffling. "No," he said tearfully, swallowing. "There was something over my face…I couldn't see anything."

Don pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The man with the gun," he asked carefully, seeing Elliot's face become anxious. "Could you tell where he was?"

"He was beside me," he said softly. He bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say something else, but didn't.

"Did you hear anyone else say anything?" the captain continued.

He swallowed. "I don't remember," he said weakly, his voice strained. His breathing was heavy. "His arm was…was around my neck and then…and then I don't remember."

Don's gaze shot to Olivia's instinctively. Through the watery sheen he could see rage in her brown eyes.

_They must have choked him until he passed out._

He became aware that his fists were clenching. Biting his lip, Cragen forced himself back to focus.

"Okay," he said gently. He paused a minute, thinking. "Do you remember being anywhere else besides in the van?"

His gaze fell back down to the blanket and he fell silent. After a minute, his shoulders began to shake again.

"The bedroom," he said softly, not looking up.

Sensing the unease, Cragen treaded carefully, giving plenty of time before he spoke again.

"What happened in the bedroom?" he asked gently.

His eyes closed.

_His body felt heavy and each eyelid like a bag of sand as he struggled to open them. When he moved, his hands jerked tight from where they were suspended above his face. His eyes traveled up as he tried to see and he realized they were tied together._

_Alarmed, he tried to yell and found his mouth taped tightly. It was then that the panic began to set in full force and he thrashed to the right, immediately feeling cold air on his chest._

_The feeling startled him so much that he stopped moving and looked down. He was completely naked._

_He heard a door open and whipped his head to the side quickly. _

_A man hurried inside and shut the door quietly behind him, creeping towards the bed. Elliot shifted quickly to the side, his heart hammering, but the man got right up on the bed beside him without hesitation and withdrew a knife from his pocket._

_Elliot whimpered instinctively and the man reached down quickly to clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. He started to shake as the man raised the knife up towards his hands._

"_Listen to me," he hissed. Elliot's eyes widened with shock when the man swiftly cut one of his hands free. "I'm going to cut you loose and when I do, you need to run." _

_He stared at the stranger with wide eyes as the rope fell away onto the bed. The man paused, looking down at him. He reached over to peel the tape from his mouth and clamped his hand down immediately over his lips again once it was gone._

"_Do you understand me?" he said urgently, his eyes frantic. "You've got to run…if you want to get out of here alive, you've got to run for your **life**. Do you understand me?"_

_He nodded quickly._

_Keeping his hand firmly in place, the man cut the rope binding the other wrist to the railing and then pushed him hard. _

"_Go, run!" he yelled. "Run!"_

_He stumbled off of the bed, hitting his knees clumsily. Getting to his feet, he threw open the door._

_All of the sudden, he heard wild laughter from behind him._

"_He's coming, EJ! Here he comes!" the man yelled, hooting._

_Disbelief and panic surged through him as he clambered clumsily down the hall and suddenly he was tackled from the side. The air rushed from his lungs as he flew hard against the door of the bathroom and he was shoved hard before he realized what was happening._

_His feet came out from under him and he tripped over the edge of the bathtub, his face smacking hard against the temperature valves. Blood stained the tiled wall as he slid down against the cold porcelain. _

_The thrust into his rectum made him scream in shock and pain. _

"_DON'T YOU TRY AND RUN FROM ME BITCH!" The man's voice above him was furious and frightening as he felt another thrust. And another. And another. "YOU'RE GONNA GET FUCKED, BITCH! YOU'RE GOING TO GET FUCKED!"_

_He was left limp and shaking in the bathtub when the man finished._

"It was a trick," he said softly, his voice shaking. "He told me to run because he knew they were outside the door."

He had his head bowed so Don looked at Olivia. She had tears dripping down her cheeks and her eyes were closed tightly.

"Someone else came in after he left," he went on. "He said I looked like I just…couldn't wait."

Keeping his eyes to the floor, Don clenched his teeth tightly to hold the tears in his eyes. He couldn't fall apart now.

"Do you know how you hurt your arm?" he asked gently.

Elliot dropped his chin to his chest.

_The crowbar slammed down into his arm with brutal force and he heard the bone pop. His ear-splitting howl pierced the night sky a moment later._

"_Now let's see if you still feel like being difficult," Evans growled, dropping the crowbar to the ground. "Do what he says, mother fucker."_

_The tears pouring from his eyes made it difficult to see. Blinking desperately, he strained to see where the man was._

_The bearded man groaned loudly in agitation from his kneeling position a few centimeters away, his erection hard and painful against the cold air. _

"_**Come on!" **he screamed next to his ear. "Suck me, god damn it! Do it **now**!"_

_A hand was suddenly wrapping around the broken bone and squeezing hard. He screamed out again in agony._

"_Stop, please, stop!" he sobbed. "I'll do it, I- I'll suck all of you… just please don't touch my arm anymore, **please**!"_

_The man's penis was in his mouth in seconds and he forced himself to wrap his lips around it. He could only stand a minute and then he was vomiting._

"_Swallow it!" the man yelled, wrapping his hands around Elliot's neck. "Swallow all of it, you mother fucking pussy!" He laughed drunkenly. "I taste good, don't I, bitch?"_

Then he was sobbing and he couldn't finish the sentence.

"Okay," Don said quickly, turning the recorder off. "Okay, that's enough, Elliot." He fumbled for the device with shaking hands. "We won't talk about it anymore."

He turned as much as he could, reaching for Olivia with his good hand. She lowered the railing on the bed and sat down, engulfing him in her arms. After a minute, her sobs became mixed with his.

"You're amazing…you're so wonderful," she crooned tearfully, stroking the back of his head. "You're so brave, Elliot." She swayed him back and forth with her gently. "My partner is so brave."

He sobbed against her neck and made no effort to extract himself. Her position made her right foot fall asleep almost immediately but she didn't move.

All but forgotten was the captain, sitting in the chair silently with his head buried in his hands.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She burst out of the warm building the moment she saw the other woman coming up the steps.

"God, thank you so much, Melinda," Casey said, hurrying to meet her. "This means more to me than you could ever know, honestly."

The medical examiner removed the large envelope tucked under her arm with a gloved hand and smiled as she handed it out.

"It's no problem," she said gently.

A gust of freezing wind blew up, making Melinda's long black peacoat flap and Casey's parka ripple against her.

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee to say thanks," the attorney offered.

The black woman shivered, adjusting her wool ski cap around the unruly curls made hopelessly frizzy by the weather.

"I won't say no to that," she said with a chuckle.

The two women climbed quickly up the stairs and into the building. Casey led them over to the small café near the courthouse entrance.

"Two coffees," she ordered, pulling out her wallet.

She paid the man and accepted the cups, handing one to Melinda. She sipped hers black and headed towards a table while Casey headed to the small counter next to the vendor for cream and sugar.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Melinda said as the other woman sat down across from her. "You won't believe how much time it took to match the DNA samples."

Casey sipped the hot beverage carefully. "Yeah, I'll bet it did," she said empathetically, swallowing. She looked at the other woman admirably. "But it's going to help the case tremendously. I can't thank you enough…you went above and beyond the call, Melinda, truly."

The medical examiner cupped her hands around the Styrofoam container, slightly biting her lip.

"Casey, about the samples," she began. "The last one…remember I told you about finding eight of them?"

"Yes," Casey answered, nodding.

"It didn't match with the others because the X chromosomes created a different genetic sequence," she said. She paused. "But after labeling each different sample, I discovered that the Y chromosomes in the genes of sample eight were correspondent to the same Y chromosomes in sample number two."

Cocking an eyebrow, she looked the attorney in the eye.

"Assailant number eight has the same father as Ethan Jones."


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Sorry for the wait…I've been sick lately. **

**Just a reminder that strong stomachs are suggested. And for crying out loud… review people. **

**Thanks.**

Gradually, she stopped swaying him and moved her hands to his shoulders, pulling him close for a hug. He sniffled and gulped, trying to get himself under control.

"There you go," she said tenderly, stroking his hair. "It's okay, honey. Relax." She nuzzled her face lovingly against his shoulder. "Relax."

Elliot let out a tearful breath and sniffled again. His gaze was averted as he pulled away from Olivia.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not meeting Cragen's eyes.

His heart was hanging by a thread, but Don did everything he could to appear composed. The last thing Elliot would want was to think he was being pitied.

"It's alright," he said with conviction, nodding.

His expression was warm and open, but his detective was refusing to look at him. Silently, Don battled with his options. The interview had barely begun. There were still deeper, more painful areas to get through before it was done. He had to do it; there was no choice about it.

He began to wonder if perhaps insisting that they be the ones to get him through everything had been a bad decision.

"Elliot," he said gently, biting his lip. "Would you like me to come back later?"

He blinked, tears falling from his lowered eyelashes, and looked up at Olivia pleadingly.

She looked at the captain with despair on her face, knowing just as well how much was still left to be done. Don raised his eyebrows slightly, revealing his own internal anguish. Her eyes lowered and she turned back toward her partner.

"We can do whatever you want," she said softly, framing his face gently as she stroked her fingers lightly into his hair.

"Will I still have to talk about it later?"

His voice was meek and small and hit Cragen the way a sledgehammer might, right in the gut.

"Yes," he said gravely. "I'm sorry, buddy….I'll still have to ask more questions even if I come back."

In the back of his mind, not nearly as important at the moment but beginning to alarm him all the same, was the direction of Elliot's responses. This was the best detective in his unit. He had conducted hundreds of interviews just like the one he was currently experiencing and yet the growing uncertainty that Don was seeing made it seem like he had no idea what was going on.

He had been through hell…_worse_ than hell. He was traumatized. He was drugged. He was scared. He wasn't himself right now. He was a victim.

Cragen's mind fed him a plethora of reasons for Elliot's behavior and every one of them was absolutely true.

But even if it was irrational, Don was still beginning to grow nervous.

Elliot returned his gaze to the mattress and swallowed, shaking his head. "I don't want you to come back," he said softly. He paused. "Keep going, Captain."

Cragen felt tears burn his eyes again but didn't object. He exchanged another look with Olivia.

"You sure?" she asked softly.

Elliot nodded silently, not looking up. She closed her eyes for a moment but didn't persist further.

Don pressed the record button again and bit his lip, trying to think of a less stressful question to ease them back into it.

"Alright," he finally said gently. "Um…Elliot, let's go back to the beginning. I'm going to ask you some more about the van." He hesitated. "Is that okay?"

There was no response and he waited patiently, not wanting to push. After a minute, Elliot's head came up slightly to look at Olivia with a timid expression on his face. He said something quietly, tilting his face towards her so that the captain couldn't hear.

Olivia looked to be fighting for composure as she smiled gently and nodded.

Don watched, slightly puzzled, as she leaned back and began groping behind her. Tears swam in his eyes when she came back around and he saw what she had in her hand.

She placed the stuffed rabbit gently in his lap and stroked his shoulder lightly. Elliot reached out to grab onto it, squishing his fingers into the fur as he dropped his gaze again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, Liz." She brandished a pair of suede zip-up boots in her sister's direction, waving them slightly back and forth. "How about these?"

The younger girl continued shuffling slowly through the rack of clothes in front of her and didn't look up.

Maureen's brow furrowed in confusion. "Liz?" she asked again.

The holiday music filtering cheerfully through the large area was loud, but not overly so, and though people surrounded them left and right as they bustled about looking for after-Christmas bargains her little sister was close enough to be able to hear her.

Putting down the boots, she took a step forward. "Elizabeth?"

Her head snapped up fast, her expression like a deer caught in the glow of headlights. "Huh?" she asked, startled. "What'd ya say?"

The young woman approached the rack, resting her hand on the flimsy metal bar beside her sister's head. She gazed at Lizzie carefully, sucking on her lip.

"You want to just go get some lunch and head home?" she said softly.

"No," Lizzie said empathetically, shaking her head quickly in what she hoped was a convincing effort to get herself together. "No." She stepped away from the clothes rack quickly. "Sorry, Maur…no, show me what you were looking at."

"Liz-" she began hesitantly, eyebrows raised.

"Come on," the younger girl interrupted with fake energy, gesturing with her head back toward the shoe display. "I still want to look at the boots."

Her older sister stared after her, biting her lip, before slowly following.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The room fell silent.

Cragen looked to be gathering his nerve. After a moment, he spoke carefully.

"Now, Elliot," he said. "I know this is going to be hard." As hard as he tried to hide it, the pain in his voice was raw. "But we need to talk more about things that happened at the house."

She saw the panic in her partner's features even with his head down. Her heart ached as she stood silently, tears wobbling in her eyes.

"We'll go slow," Cragen continued, his voice so delicate that Olivia was actually surprised. "You take as long as you need to….if you need a break, we'll take a break." He paused painfully, waiting for a response. "Okay?"

He didn't speak, but his slow nod confirmed his permission.

"What happened after the second man came into the bathroom?" he began gently.

Elliot kept his gaze on the stuffed animal in his fist. "He put the gun to my head and made me walk downstairs," he said softly. "We went out the back door and he hit me with the gun across the face…the next thing I knew I was lying in sand."

_Freezing water washed up under his chest but the only thing he could feel was the white-hot pain rippling along his muscles as his arms were wrenched behind his back at an awkward angle. The sand stung his eyes as he lay helpless, the tight ache in his arms becoming unbearable at the same time he realized that he couldn't do anything to ease it._

_His arms and back screamed as he was rolled over and then he found himself staring up at seven men hovering around him. Though his heart was pounding so hard he feared it would give out, Elliot sneered and gathered up as much saliva as he could. He spit in their direction, glaring at them._

_As they laughed uproariously at him, his brain chose that moment to connect the dots and realize why two of them looked so familiar. One of them had his picture printed on the squad room chalkboard and the other he had sat across from in a lockup not two days ago._

_Ethan Jones and Jason Evans._

_Fear made his throat taste bitter and he had to swallow to keep himself from choking._

"_So, guys." Jones looked at his buddies with a look of amusement on his face. "Guess what kind of crazy job our friend Elliot here has?" He looked back down at his captive, his smile widening. "He's a sex detective." _

_His eyes became positively predatory then and his face became hard._

"_Let's see how good you are, Detective," he said harshly, getting on his knees._

_He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. His muscles were goo as he felt his jeans being savagely pulled down._

_The first two were rough, hateful, and greedy. They sucked on his penis to the point of making it sore and didn't even flinch at his screams while they took all they wanted._

_By the time the fourth took his turn, they started becoming annoyed. Evans didn't even break his stride as one of the others bent over and forced Elliot to take the dirty rag into his mouth. It tasted like sweat and made him gag hard but the man held it in place firmly so that he couldn't spit it out._

_His yells became muffled and when the tears came they laughed._

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. The tears streamed down her face and her hand shook as Olivia brought it up to wipe her nose quickly before a sniffle could escape.

Never in her nine years with the squad had she ever broken down during a statement. Her first rape case had her puking between interviews and popping chewing gum for almost the entire shift, but she had never lost it while she listened to the victim. She knew better.

She hadn't even made it past his first sentence before her tears had invaded.

Cragen cleared his throat roughly and when she glanced at him, she saw his eyes were glassy.

"I didn't want to," he whimpered. He looked at the captain with panic in his eyes, his face crumbled. He shook his head, beginning to sob again. "I didn't want to, really I didn't. I swear….I didn't want to." The expression of pleading on his face was evident.

Olivia waited for Cragen to say something and was startled when he didn't. When she looked at him, she saw his shoulders were shaking ever so slightly and his head was bowed.

Elliot cried painfully, burying his face into the stuffed animal he was clutching against his chin. Each agonizing sound tore at her insides to the point where she thought her heart was raw.

"Elliot," she said softly, risking a step towards him again. She swallowed. "Of course you didn't want to." The tears were threatening to overtake her again. "This was not your fault…no one thinks you wanted any of this to happen. No one."

Her words only seemed to make him more upset.

"Elliot." Her head whipped around, startled, when the captain finally spoke. She was relieved to see that he looked to be more composed now. "Elliot, listen to me."

His voice held a hint of authority yet was so gentle that it seemed almost breakable.

"Look at me, Detective," he said. He paused, swallowing. "Will you please look at me?"

Elliot sobbed again, shaking his head. Teary, red eyes gradually floated up past the stuffed rabbit's fur though he kept his face covered.

Watery brown eyes stared tenderly back at him.

"This is not your fault," he said. "Not one bit of it. No one is ever going to think you asked for any of this to happen." He saw pure agony in his detective's eyes as he looked at him and he softened his gaze almost desperately. "Why would you think that?"

His face crumbled again and Don almost lost it then himself.

"While they…they were…." They could hardly make out his words. "I…I got an erection." The shame in his voice rang clearly and he sobbed painfully. "I didn't want to…I promise I didn't."

Don's eyes squeezed shut in pain and sympathy.

"Elliot," he said softly. "Your body reacted naturally to the stimulation…it was absolutely out of your control. It's normal for a man to get an erection during an assault."

There was no response from his detective other than tears.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Kat, you got it?" he yelled, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

The phone rang once more. Twice more. Three more times.

Cursing, Dickie pressed pause on the controller and threw it to the ground, leaping up. Tearing down the hallway, he burst into his mom's room and snatched up the cordless receiver on its sixth ring.

"Hello?" he said harshly, annoyed.

"Hello?"

His mother's voice was cautious and confused at the fresh tone. Clenching his teeth, he took a breath and forced himself not to snap.

"Hello," he repeated, his voice calmer.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Playing _Street Racer_," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She should know…he hadn't stopped playing it since he'd opened it Christmas morning.

"Oh," his mother said dryly, her tone teasing. "Of course. Silly me."

His face split into an instinctive grin at her tone and it showed in his voice the next time he spoke. "What are you doing?"

"Playing hooky from my boss," she replied, smiling. "I'm on my lunch break…I just wanted to call to see what you guys were doing."

He nodded and shrugged. "Well, now you know," he said smartly, leaning up against the bed and wishing she would get off the phone so he could go back to his game.

"Where are your sisters?"

"Maureen and Liz are at the mall," he said. "I don't know where Kat is."

"She isn't home?" Her voice became sharp all of the sudden, almost angry.

"No, she's here," he answered. "She's in her room, I think"

His mother exhaled. "Oh,' she said. "Well…okay. I was just calling to check up on you." He didn't say anything and waited. "I'll be home at about four…I'll see you later."

"Bye," he said.

"Dickie?" she said, before hanging up.

"Yeah?"

Her voice sounded sad. "I love you."

His brow furrowed in embarrassment, but he repeated the same to her before hanging up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_He cried out desperately against the cloth but it was tied tightly against the back of his neck and doing its job effectively._

_The man grunted throatily, pressing himself even harder against Elliot's body. He tried to keep his eyes closed but they stung so much that he couldn't. _

_The other man's pelvis was thrusting and grinding against his as he sucked on each of his nipples, biting down every few seconds to make him scream again. His hands came down to roughly squeeze his own penis, jerking it upward in fluid repetition as he groaned in ecstasy._

"_Ummm," he moaned incoherently when the sweet release finally came. "Yeah…"_

_The man's head came down to rest on Elliot's abdomen._

_He felt the man's hands on his penis then, squeezing and kneading roughly. He yelped in agony, writhing around in total panic at the extreme pain. The man was sprawled limply across him and the weight on his ribs was crushing._

"_Good work, my boy," he panted. "Beautiful." _

_His head turned again and Elliot felt the man bracing himself against him as he pulled his body further up. The man began slowly licking up his chest and around his neck, his breath hot and wet._

He inhaled tearfully, shuddering.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he bowed his head, shoulders shaking.

Hearing Elliot talk about the men assaulting him as a group had been bad…sickeningly bad.

Hearing about each man taking turns individually was worse.

"_Tell me you want it," the man growled._

_He thrust deeply into him, making him howl and choke on the gag. Whimpering, Elliot struggled to raise his face out of the sand enough to breathe._

_Suddenly searing pain was ripping along his back. He screamed in shock and pain as the man brought the belt down across his skin again._

"_TELL ME YOU WANT IT!" he screamed maniacally, bringing it down again and again. "SAY IT, FAGGOT!"_

_The pain rained down on his back over and over until he thought he would pass out. It felt the skin was being ripped off. Every breath he sucked in made the cloth choke him more and he gagged, his stomach rising._

"_Piece of shit," the man growled. Throwing the belt to the ground, the man snagged him by the hair and lifted his head up. He yelped, his eyes squeezed shut. _

"_If you weren't such an easy piece of ass," he hissed in his ear. "I'd kill you right now, you worthless bastard."_

_His head slammed back down hard into the sand. Elliot sobbed as the man walked away._

Tears streamed down his face and he ducked his head in shame, listening to the silence.

"I can't," he whispered, bone-weary and broken. "I don't want to talk anymore."

Don's vision was blurry as he numbly turned off the tape recorder, his mind barely even comprehending the motion.

Two hours and almost one full cassette and he felt like his heart was gone. Completely gone, like nothing was left of his chest but hollow air.

"It's alright," he finally said weakly. "That's good enough, buddy. That's good enough."

His face went back into the fur again and he slumped down against the pillows, too exhausted to hold himself up anymore.

Don's legs felt like jelly as he struggled to his feet. His vision was cloudy, like he was underwater.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"What can I do for you, Counselor?"

His voice was syrupy sweet and subtly mocking, just enough to make sure she was aware of it without it being too obvious.

She was already having a hard time conjuring up the kindness she had heard from him the day they had gone for the identification.

Try as she might, Casey just couldn't bring herself not to loathe him. Dwight Haskins made her skin crawl with every word that came from his mouth.

"I have the results from Detective Stabler's rape kit," she said briskly. "Let me know when you're available to go over it."

His half-smile was condescending and his expression exaggerated patience. "Oh, of course," he said, nodding. "Right away, Counselor. Anything you'd like."

It took an effort not to lash out something nasty at him. She glared at him nevertheless.

"Call me when you're ready," she said abruptly, turning away from him quickly.

She could feel his laughing gaze burning into her back as she walked back toward the front entrance of the holding center.

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The headlights bathed the garage door with bright light when she pulled into the driveway. She flipped them off and wearily shut off the car's ignition.

The streetlight next to the curb a few feet away flickered dingily, barely casting a glow on the dark pavement as she stepped out. She looked at the Nelson's house across the street and imagined them all sleeping, husband and wife preparing for another day at the office and the three children Kayla always played with tucked in bed, clothes picked out to wear to the baby-sitter's in the morning.

She stood staring at the dark windows, emotion rising in her chest that came out of nowhere.

Annoyed when she felt tears pricking her eyes, Melinda shook her head angrily and continued up the path towards the front porch.

It had been a long day. She'd had a long drive back from Buffalo. She was tired and her emotions were just high from exhaustion. A good night's sleep was all she needed.

She unlocked the front door quietly and tiptoed into the house, shutting it behind her. She slipped off her shoes and turned back, jumping in reflex at the form of Mike standing before her.

He looked at her warmly, not saying a word. He was in flannel pajama pants and she could see fatigue in his eyes. She swallowed hard as she stepped closer to him, letting herself collapse against his chest.

His body radiated heat as she sobbed into his shoulder.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She was so surprised when she entered the room and found Elliot fast asleep that she actually double-checked her watch to see if she had seen the right time.

She had. 7:35.

_Huh,_ she thought, slipping her coat off. _That's weird._

The doctor wasn't due to give him his nighttime medicine for an hour and a half, and even after it was administered he would remain hyper tense and alert for a good while before settling. By the looks of him, he was knocked out cold.

That never happened so close to another dose.

Figuring Olivia had gone for coffee or to the restroom, Kathy sat down quietly in the chair. Despite her best efforts she could feel nervousness beginning to settle in her gut.

The other woman didn't appear for a good fifteen minutes and by then she was so tense with dread that the sound of the door opening made her spring to her feet.

Olivia eased the door open slowly, creeping inside, and jumped at the sound of Kathy's frantic voice.

"What's going on?" she asked, raising her eyebrows worriedly. "Is he ok? Did something happen?" Her words began becoming rushed with panic. She looked at Olivia warily, the fear becoming apparent. "He's never asleep this early."

The slight expression of guilt that she saw flash over Olivia's face did nothing to appease her anxiety.

"Kathy," she said uneasily, biting her lip. "I…I wasn't expecting you this early."

"I came straight from work," Kathy replied rapidly. "Olivia, tell me if something is going on…please tell me nothing's wrong." Her eyes went back towards the bed worriedly.

Olivia could see the glassiness in her eyes. "He's worn out." Her voice was faint with sadness. "Cragen had to get a statement from him this afternoon about the attacks."

Kathy lost her breath, feeling her heart shattering.

"Oh, no," she said softly, her face crinkling with emotion. Her expression was horrified as she approached the bed hesitantly. "Oh, God…Elliot, no. Oh, God."

She reached a hand timidly towards his cheekbone, stopping a hair's breath away from touching it. She shook her head, devastated, and slid her eyes closed.

Olivia watched her sadly and swallowed nervously.

"But, um-" Her voice caught slightly and she quickly cleared her throat. "The uh…the doctor does need to talk to us." She swallowed again. "I should let him know you're here."

She disappeared out the door again.

Kathy suddenly felt lightheaded.

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The soft knock on his door made him growl in irritation.

_God damn it, what's it going to take for the man to take the hint?_

Clutching the remote angrily in his hand, John increased the volume on the television, but he still heard the second knock and clenched his teeth.

His partner had relentlessly badgering all day. He knew by the caller ID who it was as he let the phone ring and had the machine turned off, but that hadn't seemed to make a difference. By the fifteenth call in a row John had angrily unplugged the phone only to hear his cell phone ringing shrilly as he backed away from where the phone jack was.

That still hadn't stopped Fin. As John took out the cell phone battery, his partner began sending him Instant Messages from the squad room computer. The god damned thing chimed seven times before he could make it back to the living room where the desk was.

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK.**

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK.**

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK.**

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK.**

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK.**

**Fin: WE NEED TO TALK**

**Fin: WE NEED**

John had logged off of the browser rapidly. Thirty seconds later, an e-mail alert had flashed.

**1 new message.**

**From: OTutu034 nypd.gov**

He had turned off the computer so fast that he was afraid he had short-circuited the hard drive.

Twenty minutes later and he was finally starting to relax…and the man had driven all the way out here to come pounding on his door.

Swearing, John flung himself up from the recliner.

He was going to chew the asshole's head clean off.

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Cragen sighed in defeat when his third knock went unanswered and shook his head. Stooping, he laid the cassette tape on the front mat and turned away from the door.

He slid inside his car and started the ignition, backing out of the driveway.

His rearview mirror picked up the front door to the house being opened as he was driving away but he didn't slow down.

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She could sense Kathy's nervousness as they stood outside the door to his room and was fairly certain that her own was as easily readable.

Despite her cool façade, Olivia too was terrified over what the doctor could possibly have to say. He had insisted on waiting for them both to be there, saying it was important to talk to them at the same time.

"_Important" means "bad" in medical terms, doesn't it? Or does "big" mean "bad"? Does "important" mean "big"?_

The man stood patiently before them. His face didn't look upset, but it didn't ease her mind. Doctors had practice at composure.

"I apologize if this is an inconvenience," he began warmly.

Kathy suddenly cut in, her voice panicked. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Is something wrong with Elliot, Doctor Beck?"

His pause made Olivia's blood run cold.

_Oh, God._

He looked at her for a moment and she couldn't read his face. She was good at reading faces…she couldn't read his at all and it scared her.

"Mrs. Stabler," he said carefully. "Are you aware of what took place this afternoon?"

Kathy's face was terrified for a few moments. "You mean the statement?" He nodded and she registered slight relief. "Yes, Olivia told me."

Olivia noticed relief on the doctor's face as well then and she realized suddenly that he probably had been worried about how to break that news.

He nodded again. "Oh, okay, good," he said, his eyes flickering back to her for a moment. "The emotional and physical strain took a pretty big toll on his body, that's the reason why he's already out. I am going to continue with the regularly scheduled dosage tonight anyway, just to be safe."

Beck stopped talking then and looked between them again. The two women looked at each other and back to him, clearly having the same thought.

_That can't be what he needs to say._

He seemed to be reading their expressions.

"I'm going to be checking the surgeries again in the morning," he began. "But from what I've seen so far, he looks to be making good progress."

His face softened even more.

"The sutures have healed and the burns all seem to have scabbed over. The bones in his arm are healing nicely as well….he'll have another few days with the cast, but after that it's safe to say he'll be okay to have it taken off."

He looked at the two women sympathetically. "That man wants to go home," he said matter-of-factly. "And barring no sudden complications, it's safe to say I'd estimate he'll be able to within another week, maybe ten days."

Olivia felt her heart skip a beat with excitement and fear.

"Oh, God." Kathy's face was a mixture of joy and despair. "Oh, Jesus…thank you. Thank you, Lord." She smiled widely though tears began slipping down her face. "He's really going to be able to go home?"

Doctor Beck nodded affirmation, but his face was serious and worried. Seeing this, Kathy lost her smile.

"Then what's wrong?" she asked, dreading the answer.

The doctor paused, shaking his head slightly and sighing. He looked between the two of them again.

"You need to know that his release is not even going to start the road to his recovery," he said with trepidation. "The hurdles he'll be facing are serious."

"How serious?" Olivia's throat was clogged and she could barely croak the words out.

"His digestive system is damaged," he began. "He'll require a liquid diet while he tries to get his tolerance built again and he won't be able to keep much down. Urinating and defecating will be excruciatingly painful."

He sighed softly. "Mobility will be strictly confined," he continued. "Walking is going to be torture. He'll have very limited flexibility due to the injuries to his ribs and reproductive organs. His energy level will be minimal, he'll tire easily, he won't be able to take much exertion…."

The doctor trailed off uncertainly.

"In short, what I'm saying is someone needs to be with him around the clock," he said. "He's going to need tremendous amounts of help just for daily routines...frequent visits to his regular physician to monitor his health…"

He bit his lip. "And that's not even mentioning the emotional upheaval. He's been severely abused and it won't be easy for him to adjust."

The two women had been completely silent as he was speaking. When he paused to take a breath, he could tell that they were both shell-shocked.

"That's why I asked to speak to both of you," he said uncertainly. "The options for his care will need to be decided on meticulously before we start taking measures for his release."

Olivia couldn't keep the lump in her throat down. She kept swallowing and swallowing, but it wasn't budging an inch.

"What are our options?" Kathy asked softly.

Doctor Beck looked at her carefully.

"I have no doubts that the both of you care very deeply for Elliot," he said gently. "But his recovery is going to require tremendous responsibility and commitment."

He looked slightly hesitant. "Mrs. Stabler…I understand that you two are divorced…?"

He trailed off. Kathy exhaled heavily, nodding, and he looked to Olivia. "And you are…his partner at work, is that right?"

She nodded too. "Yes," she said. She hesitated, wanting to say something but not sure if she should. "But Elliot…he's my best friend, Doctor Beck."

The man exhaled slowly.

"It's not my place to decide what would be most beneficial to him," he said. "But I will strongly suggest allowing Elliot to offer input before making any final decisions. There are several in-home nurses on staff here at the hospital and his insurance plan can offer names of other physicians and practices as well."

"How…how much time do we have?" Olivia asked, finally able to speak.

"Well, technically," the doctor said hesitantly. "You don't have to make any decisions while he's here at all. His release is only pending his physical state of readiness and someone to sign him out...what happens after that is out of our hands."

He pursed his lips gently and looked at her compassionately.

"But at the risk of being crass," he went on softly. "I'm going to be bold and say that you both look too intelligent to make such rash moves knowing what could result."

Olivia swallowed hard, feeling like her heart was in her throat.

Beck gave them each a long, sympathetic stare. "Sleep on it…give yourselves time to consider the options," he said. "Whatever happens, please know that you are not alone. Please, if either of you needs to call me, don't hesitate to do so. This is a big decision and I will be more than happy to assist you in any way possible."

There was no response from Olivia or Kathy.

After a moment, he checked his watch and awkwardly cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon, ladies," he said. "But if you'll please excuse me, I have to make my rounds." He looked at them warmly. "I'll back with the Codeine in about forty-five minutes."

Kathy was the first to find her voice.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said softly.

Olivia was looking at the ground.

He nodded gently, smiling lightly, and left them alone.

Thick silence swirled around both of them as they avoided each other's eyes, each one's mind racing with anxious thoughts.

"He shouldn't be alone," Kathy finally whispered.

Swallowing hard, Olivia looked over at her. "I agree," she said weakly, nodding.

Their eyes flitted away from each other again. More silence.

Olivia bit her lip, looking at the ground.

"I…I don't like the idea of an in-home nurse," she said nervously.

Kathy nodded, also looking at the ground. "Neither do I," she agreed softly.

They fell silent again. Olivia's eyes darted to Kathy's nervously before ducking away, and Kathy mirrored the gesture. The movement repeated several times before Olivia finally sighed.

"This isn't about what either of us wants," she said, biting her lip. "We have to think about what's best for Elliot right now, don't you think?"

_I'm what's best for him._

Kathy nodded slowly. "You're right," she said softly. "It's all about what's best for Elliot."

_Me. I'm what's best for him._

"Let's just…" Olivia sighed wearily and shook her head. "Let's just sleep on it. We'll think better when our heads are clear."

Kathy nodded and she parroted her.

After a minute, she turned back towards the door to the room. Kathy followed without a word.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: For those of you who already reviewed this chapter…it's still the same, nothing is different. I just resubmitted it.**

Furrowing his brows suspiciously, he crossed the living room and switched on the entertainment center. He opened the tape player, turning the white cassette with no writing over in his hands a few times in hesitation.

Cragen's car had been easy to identify and John had to admit feeling surprised as he'd stood in the doorway watching it drive away. He'd honestly been expecting his partner.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on here. Jesus, no wonder Fin had been anxious to get hold of him….he had formally ratted him out to the captain. And then to add insult to injury, he hadn't even had the balls to tell him to his face.

The thought made him scowl and he nearly crushed the tape in his fist.

It was just like those IAB bastards to make a recording of it. The evidence would be readily available to use against him the second he tried to defend himself. Hell, they'd probably even made copies for the chief and commissioner by now.

Fuck wads. They had no problem ruining other people's careers without notice, but they sure as hell always made sure their own asses were covered in every way possible.

His instinctive reaction was to throw it in the garbage. They were obligated to allow him the chance to hear the accusations against him and he was obligated to verify that he had done so. They couldn't pursue any further investigation until he had contacted them saying he was aware of the testimony against him.

_Well, fuck all of you._

Damned if he was going to just hand them back the evidence that would be used to destroy him. Childish as it may seem, if John Munch was going down there was no way in hell he was doing it submissively. He was going to give them absolute hell for as long as he possibly could.

At least then he could pretend to care about his pride.

He made it all the way to the garbage can in the kitchen and ended up stopping with his hand on the lid. Tapping the cassette against his palm, his eyes darkened and he turned back around again.

_Let's just see what old Fin has to say. Let's see how easily he handles it while he crucifies his trusty partner._

His hands were shaking by the time he got back to the entertainment center and he was seeing spots as he popped the tape player open again.

He knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with. He would be the first to admit he was a glorified cynical asshole and a professional pessimist in regard to just about everything.

But damn it.

He really thought they were friends.

_I can't fucking believe it. _

He slammed the tape roughly inside the compartment, cursing out loud.

_How can he just sell me out like this? Partners don't do that to each other…ever. _

He pressed the play button, still seething, and listened to the captain's voice fill the room.

"Captain Donald Cragen, Manhattan Special Victims Unit…"

The sound of it only infuriated him more. He clenched his teeth and his fists simultaneously, and wished more ill on his partner than he had ever done to anyone in his entire life.

_That spineless, yellow-bellied, backstabbing-_

"This is the testimony of Elliot Stabler, witnessed by Detective Olivia Benson, December 29, 2006…at 1:30 in the afternoon."

The world seemed to stand still. If not for the way he felt his chest contracting, he would have sworn his heart had stopped.

Pinpricks of light began exploding before his eyes and he felt himself getting hot. His throat dried up so quickly that it choked him and he had to consciously remind himself to breathe as his knees locked.

The sound of himself gulping air was the only thing he heard for a moment and then the captain's voice was back.

"Okay." The words were soft. "Elliot…can you tell me about the day the men took you?"

His reflexes acted before his brain and the tape player was savagely turned off before he even realized it.

The silence filling the room was overwhelmingly loud as he stood stock-still in front of the entertainment center, blinking robotically and trying to catch his breath.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The room was pitch-black. The slats in the shutters provided the only illumination as bright moonlight peeked through and cast odd patterns on the opposite wall.

Don lay staring at them, exhausted and wishing that he could be swept away into oblivion, yet knowing it wouldn't happen.

He couldn't close his eyes without seeing images of Elliot being brutalized. He couldn't concentrate on his breathing without hearing the sound of Elliot crying and pleading. He couldn't attempt to make his brain wind down without hearing his words playing over and over again.

He had no intention of ever listening to that tape again. He didn't need to…there was no way he would ever be able to forget what he had been forced to hear. He felt bad about the lie, but was hopeful that Casey would forgive him if she ever found out about it….which, God willing, wouldn't have the chance to happen anyway.

Despite his best efforts, he had been unable to get through John's protective shell… but nothing the man did could hide the fact that he was still suffering mental agony day after day. The fact that he had made a point to come to the criminal proceeding proved it better than anything he could have ever said, and even while John had been screaming at him during their few tense confrontations the hurt was painfully obvious.

With the meeting with Fin to look forward to in the morning, Don knew that his time was up. He had stalled, begged, and cut corners for as long as he possibly could. If facing the harsh reality didn't get through to that man, nothing probably ever would.

His intense guilt was what had driven John Munch over the edge in the first place. Don prayed that the same would be enough to bring him back.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She couldn't stop herself from groaning out loud in pleasure.

"Oh, my _God_," she murmured happily, closing her eyes. She grunted throatily in appreciation, savoring the sensation for as long as she could.

Smacking her lips softly, Casey lowered the fork back down to jab at another piece of blueberry waffle. The small mountain of whipped cream balanced on top wavered slightly with the movement as she swiped a little more onto the piece on her fork. Bringing it to the side, she carefully scooped up two fresh blueberries as well before lifting the entire thing to her mouth.

"_Mmm_," she groaned again, shaking her head in disbelief. Sweet syrup and whipped cream exploded with blueberry along her taste buds again. She chewed awkwardly because of the large portion in her mouth and spoke out loud. "Thank you, New York."

She could count on one hand the number of times a case had required her to relocate to a new venue. She had been working steadily for almost two straight weeks out of a hotel, albeit a nice one, and had made sure to keep receipts of all her purchases for the city clerk to record when she arrived back home.

Casey Novak had no intention of taking advantage when the state of New York was paying for her every necessity…but this was the first morning when she actually didn't have something pressing to do and God damn it, she was going to get breakfast from room service.

The pillows were piled comfortably behind her head, supporting her weight, and she was perfectly content eating the best fucking blueberry waffles she'd ever had under the covers. Swallowing, she paused to reach for the glass of orange juice and perked up at a particularly interesting scene in the movie currently on the television in front of her.

Turning her head back after the scene was over, she looked at the clock. It was almost ten. She would need to get in the shower when she finished eating and get ready for the day. She suspected Dwight Haskins would be trying to contact her at any time to go over the rape kit.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her eyes flitted casually up from her book. Blue eyes stared straight back at her and she did a double-take instinctively, nearly dropping the hardback in shock.

Olivia chuckled wryly at her own jumpy reaction, her scoff a cross between amused and disgusted. She placed the book down on the floor and uncrossed her legs, shaking her head.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she teased gently, stepping closer.

Her fingers brushed across his cheek lightly. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch with such desperation that it made her eyes well. She lifted her other hand to caress the opposite cheek automatically.

"Feeling okay?" she asked softly, all traces of amusement in her face replaced by sadness.

Elliot let out a soft, shuddering breath without answering and swallowed hard. She watched his throat contract with the movement and winced sympathetically.

"You thirsty?" she probed carefully. She thumbed slightly down towards his jaw, inadvertently grazing across the stubble on his face. "Want some water?"

His gaze remained locked with hers. She could feel his heartbeat through his cheek muscles. He still didn't speak, but the expression in his eyes and slight shift in his face made it obvious his response was negative.

"Are you sure?" she asked. She was surprised to hear herself nearly pleading with him. "I'll bet your throat must be dry."

Her lips pursed anxiously as she robotically moved her hands across his cool skin. Her expression was tender as she implored with her eyes. They continued the silent stare down for another half a minute.

Then his face crumbled slowly and he closed his eyes. She watched tears trickle from beneath his lashes and slide down onto the pillow but he never made a sound.

Her own eyes welled up in reaction.

"Elliot," she murmured sadly, stepping closer to the bed. She slipped her hands off of his cheeks and down to circle his collarbone lightly. "Oh, Elliot…"

He cried silently, sniffling, but didn't open his eyes to look at her.

Olivia swallowed hard to keep her emotions at bay and placed a gentle kiss to the side of his head. She rubbed her fingers soothingly through his hair and across his scalp, desperately trying to comfort him without words.

There was nothing she could say.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Detective Kessler could feel his palms starting to sweat.

"But…it's not that easy, Fin," he said weakly. He gripped the sides of his chair hard, shaking his head as he stared at the man sitting in his partner's desk. "You know it's not that easy."

The black man scoffed, his eyes taking on a slight wild edge that made the other detective visibly flinch.

"Hey, man," he said shortly, pinning Kessler with a stony look. "Who the hell said it was supposed to be easy?"

He seemed to be becoming more riled with each word…Jake could see the man's foot tapping restlessly against the floor.

"You think I don't know how fucking hard this is going to be?" he went on, his voice rising steadily with every syllable. "I'm going to lose either my job or my partner sometime in the next ten minutes, god damn it!"

Unable to sit still any longer, Fin jumped up from the chair to pace the floor. Kessler watched him carefully.

"Look, Fin," he said hesitantly. "You're way high-strung right now...maybe you just need a little time, you know? Think things through a little better before making any stupid decisions."

The other detective stopped in his tracks so suddenly that he nearly stumbled.

"This is your career on the line here, man," Kessler continued. "And I personally would like to keep mine for the next twenty or thirty years, thank you very much."

Fin cocked one eyebrow, his eyes suddenly taking on a hateful gleam.

"Ah," he said softly, nodding. His brow furrowed. "I see." His voice became quiet. "How long have you been a cop, Kessler?"

The other man was startled by the swift change in direction, as was evident in his expression as he thought about it.

"Sixteen years this March," he answered. He stared at the other man with disgust. "And don't even try to give me any of that 'duty as an officer' bullshit. You know as well as I do that being labeled a rat just gives everyone else an excuse to fuck you over as much as they can"

Kessler's choice of words made Fin inwardly flinch, but his expression only tightened more on the outside.

"So you're worried that talking is going to cost you your job," he said evenly. "You'd rather sit back and watch a good cop take the fall rather than risk persecution."

"Fuck, man!" Kessler shouted, finally losing his patience. He stood up and glared at Fin. "John was the one who fucked up…he made the choice by himself and now he's going to catch it in the ass. You can't fight his battles for him, Fin, and you can't make me do it either."

The two men were almost toe to toe, but neither insinuated a threat toward the other. They just stood staring angrily at each other in silence.

"I wasn't talking about my partner, Kessler," Fin said in a deadly voice. "Maybe during all of your time spent covering your own ass, you've forgotten about what Elliot has had to go through."

"Of course not," he said, his eyes turning steely. "How dare you fucking say that." His face twisted defensively. "It's all anyone thinks about, for Christ's sake."

"Do you know what they did to him, Kessler?"

. Kessler's face flushed with shame and anger but he said nothing. Fin shook his head in despair. "Can you even… _imagine_ what he must be feeling like right now?"

The other man looked at the ground angrily.

"What did he do to deserve that?" he pressed angrily, starting to lose his temper again. "Tell me how horrible Elliot Stabler has acted that would warrant treatment like that."

When he got no response, his teeth clenched even tighter. "Tell me how you can just sit here and pretend like nothing happened…like you don't care about how much our actions are hurting a damn good friend."

Kessler swallowed hard before looking him in the eye.

"How could anything we do possibly be of any help to him at all?" he said weakly.

"Well, sitting here doing nothing obviously isn't doing him any better," Fin fired back quickly.

Seeing the expression of pain that had taken over his face, Fin sighed softly.

"We've already wasted too much time," he said. He stared the other man straight in the eyes. "Please, Kessler…it's only about Elliot. That's all it's ever been about." He paused painfully. "I just can't punish him any more."

Jake Kessler closed his eyes and swallowed. After a moment he nodded.

"When is Cragen coming in?" he asked softly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her stare seemed to burn holes through him as she continued pulling the items from the large envelope.

"Documented injuries," she went on, plunking the pile of glossy photographs down in front of his manicured fingernails. "With corresponding numbered photos…"

Haskins continued to look silently through the items collecting in a growing mound before him on the table.

"Blood sample," she continued, tossing the single document down on top of the others, "taken from Detective Stabler at the beginning of the examination."

Her hands went back inside the envelope, her brows creasing in mock surprise as if she were unwrapping presents instead of pulling out evidence. Her voice dripped with condescension that she just loved throwing back in his face.

"Semen samples discovered by florescent light." Her face screwed into dramatic uncertainty as she looked down at the defense attorney from where she stood across the table. "Oh, man…look at that…" She shook her head, wide-eyed. "Seven of the eight deduced as foreign."

He glared at her. "Casey-"

Almost in the blink of an eye her face became deadly hard again, as did her voice. "DNA samples lifted from crime scene evidence," she said, cutting off his voice almost entirely. She lifted out the last of the papers with both hands.

"Casey," Haskins repeated dryly, looking at her in annoyance.

"Sample one, match with Travis Sutton," she read dramatically, tossing the first paper in the stack carelessly. It fluttered near the edge of the table. "Sample two, match with Jason Evans." Another paper to the table. "Sample three, match with John Hughes."

Her wrist began flicking papers swiftly without aim, some of them smacking the man in the chest as she began reading the names fluidly with more speed.

"Sample four, match with Ethan Jones…sample five, match with Matthew Lucas…sample six-"

"All _right_," Haskins snapped loudly, losing his patience. He shoved the closest paper further away with a scoff of disgust. "I think I got the point, thanks."

"Are you sure?" Casey asked coldly, cocking an eyebrow. She gestured to the stack of papers in her hand with her shoulder. "There are ninety-four others here in case you're not positive." The sarcasm in her voice cut razor-sharp.

"What are you offering?" Haskins asked, getting straight to the point.

"Your clients plead guilty to sexual assault and conspiracy to commit a violent crime," she said, slapping the remaining pile down. "Fifty years in maximum security with no parole."

Haskins scoffed rudely, smirking. "You've got to be kidding," he said, shaking his head. When her expression didn't falter, his gaze narrowed. "Sexual misconduct with proof of malice…eighteen months in offender rehabilitation and supervised probation."

"Your other option is prosecution of a federal offense and your clients applying for Medicare while in solitary confinement," she said, her voice nearly catching with her fury. "Take your pick, Counselor."

"You've got no proof," Haskins said with disdain. "Where's your victim's statement?"

"It's en route," she said, mentally crossing her fingers. "The captain of SVU is sending it to me now."

The man's face turned sour. "Oh, that's convenient," he said sarcastically. "A statement taken by his own commanding officer….I'm sure there will be no discrepancies there."

"Manhattan Special Victims has been heading up the investigation of your clients before this whole thing even occurred," Casey countered. "Any activity involving those suspected automatically is fielded by them and that includes talking to any victims."

"Circumstantial," he said, smirking. "And….if memory serves me correctly…" His expression twisted almost mockingly. "I believe it was….Detective Stabler who instigated a conflict with one of my clients before evidence of an assault was recorded. I'm sure a jury might find that a bit questionable, don't you think?"

Her face turned indignant and he chuckled.

"Not guilty," he said easily. "One year in minimum security." His eyebrows lifted. "Come on, Casey…all you'll be doing is putting more stress on Detective Stabler. Do yourself the favor and lessen the burden."

"No deal," she snapped in disgust, overwhelmed by the audacity of this man.

Withdrawing another paper, this time from her briefcase, she tossed it down before him.

"Eight assailants isn't a hard thing to prove when you've got the evidence in black and white," she said wryly. "It would be in your clients' best interest to cooperate."

Haskins glanced over the DNA findings for the eighth attacker without speaking. She waited for his gaze to come back to hers and narrowed her eyes.

"Jones especially," she said, gathering her briefcase. She slung it over her shoulder and glared at him as she began walking towards the door. "Make sure you inform him that he's in a deeper boat than the rest."

She strode out into the hallway before the man could say anything.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He stared pointedly at the detective, not sure if he was telling him the whole truth.

Fin raised his hands defensively. "That was it," he insisted. "I swear, Captain…that was all I heard."

He shook his head angrily, sighing. "Great," he said sourly. His bitter gaze fell to the police car paperweight resting beside his keyboard. "So that only helps strengthen the argument that John started it."

Don lifted his steely eyes to the other man sitting beside Fin.

Detective Kessler had his attention fixated on the floor, brows furrowed. His jaw was set intently. Cragen stared at him a moment.

"Kessler?" he said authoritatively. The man's head snapped up fast and he saw what he thought was pure dread in his eyes. "What about you?"

The detective looked at him squarely. "What about me, Captain?" he asked edgily.

Don fixed him with an exasperated glare. "Am I wrong in assuming you've got something to add?" he said sarcastically. "Or are you just here to listen in on a confidential report about a fellow detective?"

Kessler sighed softly, shaking his head.

"I was down in the lockup with the suspects," he said gravelly. "John came down to tell me that my shift was up and that Briscoe would take over. That…that dude…" His face scrunched in annoyance as he tried to come up with the name and he waved his hand. "Whoever it was who made the complaint-"

"Jason Evans," Don cut in.

"Right, right," Kessler said, nodding. "We're both heading up the stairs and this guy Evans calls Munch by name, throws out some crap about seeing him with Elliot in the Bronx or something like that."

Don's face reflected his confusion. _What the hell does that mean?_ "Go on," he said, trying not to show his unease.

"I didn't know what the hell the guy was saying…tell the truth, I thought it was just some shit to get us riled," he continued. "But John's got this look on his face, like…" He shook his head. "I've never seen a look like that from him. He goes down to the cage, they start exchanging words."

He shrugged. "I don't know what, I couldn't hear 'em…anyway, next thing I know, John's got his gun in between the bars on the guy's face. I start coming towards them, real slow like, you know…guy's taunting him, telling him to shoot him and all kinds of shit." His face suddenly hardened. "Then the fucker starts-"

He cut himself off abruptly, remembering he was sitting before his captain, and blushed.

"Sorry, sir," he mumbled. "Evans starts rubbing his crotch, making crude noises…tells John he doesn't care about being shot because he already got what he wanted…"

"_Mmm…it's been a long couple of years." His smile was cocky and indulgent. "I made up for **plenty** of lost time. No wonder the man's got so many kids."_

His fists clenched even as he was relaying the story. "That's when I stepped in, tried to wrestle the gun away," he said. "Fin showed up about a minute later and managed to knock it out of his hand."

Kessler shook his head angrily, looking up. The captain's face was positively murderous.

"I'm sorry, Captain," he said guiltily. "I…I know have said something at the beginning. I just-"

"You're positive that's what was said?" Cragen interrupted quietly. His voice was almost menacing. "Word for word…that's exactly what Jason Evans said?"

The detective did a slight double take in confusion, wondering why he wasn't jumping on him for not talking like he had been expecting him to.

"Y-yeah," he said, nodding. "Yes, sir…that's what he said. Exactly."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She could tell by the slight intonation in his sigh that he was prepared for sleep and it suddenly occurred to Olivia just how much her instincts had become edgier while she had been here.

She didn't need to wear a watch to know exactly when midnight struck because he whimpered in his sleep every night at the precise moment the new day arrived no matter how dead to the world he was.

She didn't need to ask him how he was feeling because she could tell by the crinkles in his forehead the degree of the pain when it assaulted him.

She didn't need to look at the door to know the moment someone was approaching from outside because the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up and she would begin to feel hot moments before she even heard footsteps.

To a cop, the sharper reflexes were golden and envied. But to a best friend, they only served to break her already shredded heart into smaller pieces.

If not for Elliot's suffering, she never would have needed to acquire these instincts.

She walked over to the other side of his bed and pulled the blinds more securely to keep out the moonlight. He let out a yawn as she was coming back around the bed, making her smile affectionately.

Her foot brushed up against the empty cot as she stepped up nearer to him and her smile faltered. Kathy had called nearly four hours ago to let her know that she couldn't come back that night but hadn't given a reason. It was none of her business and she hadn't asked, but it still gave Olivia a gnawing feeling in her gut that she couldn't explain.

"Ready for bed?" she asked softly, the smile forming immediately again when she gazed down on her best friend.

Her hand slipped into his automatically. Elliot inhaled drowsily, his eyes becoming weighted, and nodded.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, struggling to keep his focus on her.

She lifted her hand to trace her finger lazily across his brow and watched his eyes swimming. Each blink became longer and more labored. Using all of his strength, he opened his eyes fully to look up into hers.

_Goodnight, Liv._

He didn't say a word and she read the message clearly anyway. Smiling warmly, she bent down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight, Elliot," she said tenderly.

His eyes slid closed as soon as she finished speaking and a look of contentment etched into his face as he succumbed to oblivion. She carefully reached up to turn off the light above his head and the resulting blackness made spots appear before her eyes.

The grip on her hand went lax but she kept hers firm for another moment. She swallowed hard, careful not to make a sound that might cause him to wake up and see the pain that had taken over her face.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered brokenly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He sat with his back against the side of the couch and shook.

"No." The teary voice echoed around the living room, sending goose bumps onto already clammy skin. "It…it was…different." His voice broke, barely masking a sob. "It was sh-sharp. It didn't…didn't- feel like…" He sobbed again, unable to say the word.

_A penis_. John shook his head in agony, the tears making his neck sticky. _For Christ's sake, Captain…you don't need to make him say it._

"It's okay," Cragen's voice was quick to cut in, making him swallow hard in relief. His voice was gentle and more delicate than John had ever heard before. "I know what you mean, Elliot…it's okay."

He heard soft sniffles as silence fell for a moment before the captain continued.

"Had they ever used it before?" he asked.

_No…you're listening to him say all this, damn it. Jesus, Captain, he said it felt different…you think he would lie?_

"I don't know," Elliot said weakly. It sounded almost like a whimper. "They just…just kept shoving it in and taking it back out." His voice shook. "It hurt-" Broken sobs filled the room. "God, it hurt so bad."

The rest of the painful recollection never registered. John broke down into hard sobs, feeling his stomach convulsing. He leaned forward towards the carpet and dry-heaved several times as he cried.

"God, this is all my fault," he sobbed, barely able to move. He could hear Elliot's voice continuing on the tape but didn't comprehend the words. He wondered how much was left. "This is all my fault."

The house was dark and quiet, with only the two voices coming from his stereo tape player as his companions in the night. They didn't offer any comfort.

They just kept talking as he yelled out in anguish and sobbed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She shrugged casually.

"It doesn't hurt me," she said, lifting an eyebrow smartly. "You're going to prison either way…it's up to you whether or not you'll be allowed to see sunlight while you're there."

The man sitting across from her only smiled cockily, jerking his head slightly. He leaned his elbows against the table.

"I like your outfit," he said.

His eyes dragged across the upper half of her blazer and tight white sweater underneath slowly. Casey resisted the urge to shudder in disgust and only scowled harder, throwing a look beside the man to where Haskins sat.

"I'm walking out this door in ten seconds," she said. "It's your choice. Like I said, it doesn't bother me."

Travis Sutton stared at her edgily. "No one else has said anything," he said. "If someone had, you wouldn't be in here trying to convince me to take a deal." He grinned. "I watch cop shows, too, you know."

"We're done," she said shortly. "Enjoy solitary." She looked at Haskins. "I'll meet you in cell four in five minutes."

Then her eyes glinted as she leaned across the table towards Sutton.

"If you check out my ass when I turn around," she said menacingly. "You'll be limping down to the infirmary."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"There you go," she said tenderly, holding the straw tightly still as he took a sip. "See….doesn't that feel better?"

The bitter look on his face was unexpected, though, and the anger that came next threw her for a loop. He turned his head away from the cup.

"I want ice," he said softly.

Olivia was startled. "Are you sure?" she asked cautiously, wanting so badly to force him to keep drinking the liquid. "Elliot-"

"Stop it!" he yelled harshly, making her jump. "I don't want water, Olivia! I want ice! **Get me some ice!"**

She quickly took the cup away and placed it on the table. "Alright," she said quickly, swallowing. "Okay. That's fine...I'll get you some ice."

Before her hand could press the call button, his face crumbled and he suddenly burst into tears.

"I'm sorry." He gasped for breath, hardly able to speak. "I'm sorry, Olivia…I'm so sorry." His words came out almost as whimpers as his sobs bordered on hysterics. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to."

Olivia had the railing lowered almost instantly so that she had room to wrap him completely in her arms. She took him lovingly against her, rubbing his back and rocking him.

"Shh…" she cooed quietly as he buried his face into her neck. His fingers dug into her back as he desperately clung to her shirt. She could feel him shaking. "Shh, Elliot…baby, it's okay. It's okay."

She rubbed over his shoulders and tried to keep herself from crying as she listened to him weeping.

"Everything's okay," she said gently. "I know you didn't mean to, honey…everything's okay. I'm not mad at you, Elliot…I'm not."

He coughed and sniffled wetly against her, inhaling a loud, shaking breath without being able to help it. She hugged him tighter. After a few moments, he began pulling back and she loosened her grip instantly. When he was able to see her face, he saw that her expression was loving and compassionate.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice broken.

Olivia only smiled and brought the side of her head down gently against his. Her hand found his and squeezed tightly.

"It's okay," she repeated softly, her other arm draping across his neck. She pulled him closer against her gently. "I promise….everything's just fine."

He sighed and closed his eyes, his weight heavy against her side.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Afternoon, Ethan," she said dryly as she strode into the last holding room.

"What do you want, bitch?" Jones said crossly, looking pissed off as he sat next to his lawyer at the table.

Casey smiled, only too pleased with the atmosphere. "Ooh…" she said snidely, seating herself across from him and opening her briefcase. "Did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the cell this morning?"

"Fuck you," he said harshly. "I ain't supposed to even be in this shit hole anyway."

Casey's face went stony as she looked at Haskins.

"I suggest you advise him to watch his language," she said. "I can leave at anytime, you know."

"Just get on with it, Casey," Haskins said in annoyance. "He'll behave." He shot a mutinous glare towards his client. "Won't he?"

Jones rolled his eyes but obediently said nothing else.

She leaned her elbows casually on the table and shrugged. "I can't say I blame you," she said. "I know if I were about to spend my retirement years in solitary confinement, I'd be pissed off, too."

He smirked. "Nice try," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Sentencing doesn't come until after conviction…and attorneys don't get a vote. Once that verdict comes in, you're done." He pursed his lips. "All you're here for is to blow smoke up my ass in hopes I'll tell you some important piece of information that you haven't figured out yet so you can win your case."

She couldn't hide her startled look and his grin split wider.

"My old man was a defense attorney," he said smugly, cocking an eyebrow. "You got no tricks I haven't already heard of."

"You do realize, Mr. Jones," she said briskly, switching topics with ease. "That you are facing multiple murder charges along with rape kidnapping, don't you?"

"Kidnapping?" he said, smirking. "I didn't kidnap no one." He grinned devilishly. "If you were at the trial a few weeks ago, you would have known that."

"So you don't deny that you did rape Detective Stabler," she said icily.

Jones looked at Haskins in amusement. "Did I say that?" he asked the other man.

Refusing to let him get her worked up, Casey slid the paper resting under her elbows neatly across the table.

"Semen sample found on Detective Stabler during a rape kit," she said matter-of-factly. "Yours."

He barely glanced at it as she slid another one overtop of the first. "Fingerprints on a lighter found at the crime scene, similar to the types of burns recovered on Detective Stabler's genital region," she went on. "Also yours."

"Fingerprints on several pieces of rope consistent to the types of abrasions found on Detective Stabler's hands and wrists," she continued, sliding another paper over and continuing to the next in her stack. "DNA from the bandanna used to gag him...semen found in the bathtub where he was first assaulted…"

"Alright," Haskins cut in, holding up a hand. "He gets it…get on with it-"

"And a positive identification from a photographic line-up," she finished, cutting him off.

She barely spared Haskins a glance as she stared piercingly at Ethan Jones. He raised his eyes from the papers in front of him and glared back challengingly, with equal force.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "We've got you on rape _and_ kidnapping, Ethan…it's right there in front of you." She shrugged. "Combine that with the…." She made a show of counting to herself. "Five murders we have linked to you? Not very good odds, there, Sparky."

"So what?" he said. "I admit to rape….and then what?" His eyes glinted dangerously. "I'll get lethal injection for murder. What do you think is gonna happen? That they'll throw me in solitary confinement instead of killing me?"

"The DNA evidence collected from the crime scene show eight assailants-" she began.

"And because only seven of us were at the trial and the police are too stupid to do anything but convert oxygen into carbon dioxide," Jones said in amusement, "you want me to tell you who contestant number eight is."

He smiled cunningly. "So you want to talk negotiation?" He leaned back in the chair smugly. "I'm all ears."

Casey dug through her briefcase and pulled out a stapled package of papers.

"Ethan Sanders Jones," she began reading without preamble. "Time of arrival 3:43 am Tuesday, July 2nd, 1969. 9 pounds, 4 ounces; 23 inches long. Delivered by Doctor Allan Garrison at Bixby Medical Center in Adrian, Michigan."

"Wow," Jones said sarcastically. "To think I wasted all those years celebrating my birthday on July 1st."

"Mother…Jessica Eileen Bernstein," Casey continued without pause. "Father… Michael Ethan Jones."

She licked her finger to flip the page, but before she could keep talking Haskins interrupted.

"How is my client's birth certificate of any relevance here?" he asked in annoyance. "Did you come here to waste-"

She slid the glossy mug shot of the young man across the table without looking up from her paper. Haskins snatched the document up quickly.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, annoyed. He scanned it momentarily and shoved it back toward her. "You can't introduce new evidence during a plea bargain, Novak."

"Check your records," she said dismissively, flipping through several stapled papers from her briefcase. "I showed you all of this yesterday…it's not my problem if you decide not to follow-up the DNA results for a face or birth record."

Haskins scowled but said nothing as she continued speaking as if he hadn't.

"Jesse Frederick Madison," she said. "Time of arrival 5:30 pm January 5th, 1983. 10 pounds, 9 ounces; 26 inches long. Delivered by Doctor Hal Webster at Saint John Hospital and Medical Center in Detroit, Michigan."

She looked at him pointedly, reciting the rest from memory. "Father: David Welsh Madison, mother: Jessica Eileen Bernstein."

Jones was glaring hatefully now and Haskins looked like he was about to shit a brick, but neither spoke.

"Protecting family," she said coldly, pushing the document towards Jones. She sneered in disgust. "How brotherly of you, Ethan."

Jones stared at the photo in disdain.

"We've got the identity," she continued. "Tell me where he is and I'll try to get you off on a lesser sentence."

"Doesn't matter," he retorted, but the fire had left his voice. "My ass is fried either way. I don't have to tell you dick."

"Why get your brother involved, Ethan?" Casey asked thoughtfully. "He was serving a minimum sentence for possession of stolen property…six months and he'd have been free. Why screw him over for your own sick pleasure?"

"Just because my mom had some bastard with some freak on the street doesn't mean he's my brother," Jones spat out bitterly.

"Actually, genius, that's exactly what it means," she shot back snidely.

"You can't talk to me that way, bitch," he said angrily. "You better shut the fuck up."

"You've got one chance," Casey said shortly. "Tell me where Jesse Madison is, Ethan."

Jones cocked an eyebrow. "No," he said clearly, pursing his lips in amusement.

His eyes sparked and she could see he was pleased with himself. Rather than slap the asshole across the face like she so desperately wanted to, Casey simply stood.

"Your loss," she said. She looked at Haskins in disdain. "That's all seven, Dwight…shame." She shrugged. "Looks like Elmira's going to be getting mighty crowded."

She threw one last mutinous look at Jones and walked to the door.

"Hey, Novak."

The use of her name from the lips of the vile man at the table made her blood boil. Her face was carved in stone but her eyes flashed as she looked back at him.

"You know you can tell a lot from a man by looking at his fingers?" Ethan grinned suggestively. "Check out Elliot's some time."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was nearing one when Kathy pulled into the hospital parking lot. She shut off the car and hopped out, opening the rear door and pulling out a small duffle bag.

She went through security clearance robotically, barely registering the words coming from her mouth and the handing over of her driver's license for confirmation. She clipped on the visitor's badge and went to the elevators.

"Kathy!"

Olivia's voice from behind her startled her as she was nearing room 420. She turned around to see the brunette striding toward her, holding a cup of coffee.

"Hey," she said, stopping to allow Olivia to catch up. The other woman began returning the greeting but Kathy interrupted her guiltily. "I'm sorry I wasn't here last night…I-"

Olivia waved her hand instantly, shaking her head. "Don't worry about it," she assured. "It wasn't a problem…really."

A surge of bitterness came up in Kathy's chest suddenly.

"Oh," she said, awkwardly, trying to figure out where the feeling was coming from. She blinked quickly. "Well, good." She nodded rapidly, swallowing, and hoped she didn't appear as mixed-up as she felt. "That's good."

"This morning has been a little rough on him," Olivia went on, her voice becoming almost emotionless. She pursed her lips and sighed softly. "Doctor Beck was right…he really does want to be out of here."

Shaking her head, the detective pushed the door open and looked back at Kathy, gesturing for the other woman to precede her.

"Olivia," she burst out, startling her. She bit her lip as the detective turned back in surprise. "Hold on…just-" She sighed anxiously, biting her lip, and turned toward the opposite direction away from the door.

Her face scrunched in concern, Olivia poked her head into the room to see Elliot in the same position she had left him sleeping and then eased back out. She turned to face the blonde, now with her arms crossed tensely over her chest.

"Is something wrong, Kathy?" she asked carefully.

"I can't…I can't do this." Her voice was anxious and shaking as she shook her head. She was so full of nervous energy that she was almost bouncing side to side. "How can we do this?"

Olivia watched her cautiously, so confused she didn't know what to say. "Do what?"

As quickly as she had started moving, Kathy suddenly stood still and dropped her face into her hands. The sound of sobbing preceded her shaking shoulders and she nearly slumped over.

Even more confused and now a little scared, Olivia began edging slightly closer.

"Hey," she said softly, her brow creased. She bit her lip and lightly touched her shoulder, the move making Kathy sob harder. "Hey…come here. Come here, let's go sit."

Kathy sniffled, shaking her head, as Olivia wrapped a gently hand around her arm. She led her over to a few chairs sitting against the wall a few feet away. Kathy sank into hers with a frustrated growl, anger on her face as she hastily swiped at her tears. Olivia sat beside her, her confusion unable to be hidden.

"What's going on?" she asked gently.

She let out a harsh breath, shaking her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry to just…_lose_ it like this." She shook her head again, looking at Olivia and seeing her concerned but bewildered expression.

"I'm scared, Olivia, and I know it's not reasonable and I know it doesn't make any sense and I-" She cut herself off, aware that she was rambling and sighed shakily. "I'm scared."

Olivia looked at her sympathetically. "I know," she said gently. She paused, shaking her head. "I'm scared, too."

"He's going to want to be with you." Kathy's voice was anxious and rapid. "I just-I know it." She looked at the detective, eyes shining. Her voice was hoarse and pained. "I love him, Olivia. I do…God, I love him so much." She was practically pleading.

Olivia shook her head quickly, squeezing Kathy's shoulder tenderly.

"Kathy, he knows," she said, nodding in conviction. "He knows you love him…and he loves you."

The other woman's face twisted.

"Try to imagine what he's going through," Olivia said painfully. "Kathy, every person to come in contact with him for almost 30 days did something to hurt or scare him. There's not…there's no 'magic pill' that can just…make that go away."

Her voice was becoming strained.

"I told you before that I will never stand in your way," she said. "I meant it." She swallowed. "But you're going to have to understand that right now…" She looked at her desperately. "Right now, you can't give him the kind of help he's going to need."

Kathy shook her head, tears running silently down her cheeks. She was startled when Olivia grabbed her hand, squeezing so tight that she thought her knuckles would break.

"I need you to be in his corner," the detective said anxiously. The blonde was startled to see tears in her eyes too. "No matter what the situation turns out like…please, Kathy." Her voice became choked. "Please be in his corner."

Kathy ducked her head, the tears breaking free and fast. Olivia felt herself crying too as she watched her anxiously. When she looked up again, her eyes were shining.

"I will always be in his corner," she said hoarsely. "I always have been." She sniffled. "Nothing in the world could ever keep me from it."

Olivia nodded, lowering her eyes to catch the falling tears. When Kathy hugged her tightly, she felt the surprised tension in the other woman's spine. She pulled back after a minute and saw the hesitation on the brunette's face.

"I've always trusted you," she said, linking her fingers through Olivia's softly. She swallowed, brushing more tears away awkwardly. "Every day for the past eight years….I'd never not trust you with his life, Olivia."

She smiled tearfully, pleased to see the detective's eyes sparkle.

"No matter what the situation turns out like," she repeated. "I'll always be in his corner." She squeezed Olivia's hand gently. "And yours too. Don't ever doubt that."

Olivia chuckled tearfully, smiling. She squeezed Kathy's hand back.

"Ditto," she said softly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Agent Gilbert grumbled, striding towards the front door. "Geez, hold your-"

The sentence was cut off into an abrupt exclamation of surprise when he opened the door and found himself flying backwards.

"What the hell-?" he cried.

Don stormed through the door with all the grace of a bull elephant, his face twisted furiously.

"You son of a bitch," he growled, advancing after the stumbling man quickly. "You're lucky I don't scramble your face, you bastard."

The IAB agent scrambled to maintain some of his dignity and straightened quickly.

"Hey…hey!" he said angrily. "You can't come in here. This is private property-"

"Shut up," Cragen snapped, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'm about four seconds away from arresting you for obstruction, so if I were you, I'd just sit your ass down on that couch and stop talking."

"What the hell are you talking about?" the man said, outraged.

The older man stalked to stand in front of the agent. "My detectives have been cooling their heels, waiting on the results of this…._investigation_…" He spit the word out harshly, his fists clenched, "that you assholes have been shoving in my face, and all along you've had access to information that we need for our case."

Gilbert scoffed. "You've got a set of balls, coming in here and making an accusation like that, Captain," he said angrily. "How dare-"

The hard fist was colliding with his face in the next second.

Cragen glared at the man as he yelped and jerked to the side, ignoring the fiery burn traveling down his wrist. The next moment he was grabbing the agent's shirt in his fist and shaking him.

"Do you… have any…" Don could feel his hands trembling as he struggled to get the words out coherently past his anger. "_Idea_…just how much stress I've had to put on Detective Stabler thanks to you?"

The agent looked at him defiantly, but Cragen could see the nervousness in his eyes.

"Jason Evans _admitted_ to raping him." His teeth clenched and he breathed hard. "_Admitted_ it down in that lockup…._gloated _about it, for Christ's sake." Glaring at Gilbert, Don shoved him away hard. "And yet you decided it would be more worth it to question the motives of the detectives who heard him."

Agent Gilbert swallowed, his hand patting his cracked lip gently to wipe the blood away, and glared at the captain viciously.

"You've just made the biggest mistake of your career, Captain," he said angrily. He stalked over to the door, yanking it open. "Now get out of my house before I have you arrested for assault."

Don walked to the door without a word and stepped outside. He turned back around and leaned into the open doorway with a hard expression.

"I'm only going to tell you this once," he said menacingly, glaring at the agent. "So listen closely." The man looked at him angrily. "If I had been in that lockup instead of Detective Munch…Evans wouldn't be here to make any accusations at all." He glared at Gilbert hatefully. "And if I find out that anything involved in your investigation could have spared Detective Stabler from the hurt he has had to go through…." He shook his head with a growl. "I will personally make sure you lose all feeling from the neck down, you got me?"

The agent's face twisted. "Get out," he growled.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He swallowed hard, looking at the two of them anxiously. Kathy nodded reassuringly.

"Really," she said gently, trying to sound upbeat. "Doctor Beck said it was ok, Elliot." She couldn't keep the nervousness from her voice. "I promise."

Elliot stared at her with such earnestness that it made tears spring to her eyes. She blinked them away quickly as he looked at Olivia. She wore a bright smile, straining hard not to let her chin quiver, and nodded as well.

His eyes dropped slowly and he took a shaky breath. He looked back at them after a minute and nodded.

"Okay," he said softly, his voice weak.

Kathy came around the bed and crouched next to the duffle bag by the table. Olivia could see the emotions wreaking havoc across her partner's face and smiled as confidently as she could.

"You'll feel so much better," she said, nodding. She extended her hand gently and he clutched it tightly at once. "Really, honey…it will feel so much better."

"When can I go home?" he asked, sounding tearful.

His eyes stared into hers with such desperation that she nearly broke down right then. She heard Kathy across the room, getting water from the sink, and swallowed hard.

"Real soon," she said softly. She squeezed his hand. "I promise."

"Here we go," Kathy said brightly, coming up behind her.

Olivia moved slightly so that she was out of her way as the blonde set two plastic cups on the table beside the bed. One held water and the other was empty.

"I got your favorite," she said, unscrewing the cap from the tube. "Crest Vanilla Mint."

Very carefully, Kathy squirted a tiny amount of paste onto the head of the bright blue plastic toothbrush and screwed the cap back on. Elliot watched her movements hesitantly as she turned back towards him.

"Here you go," she said gently, holding it in front of him.

Her hand wrapped around his as he gripped the slim handle and helped him guide it shakily towards his mouth.

He brushed slowly for a minute and then pulled the toothbrush away, looking to the side. Kathy helped him drink a mouthful of water and then spit into the empty cup.

Elliot swallowed hard, breathing through his nose as he slowly brought the toothbrush back into his mouth.

The bristles…the bristles were soft. They squished against his teeth as he struggled to keep his hand steady.

His heart began pumping faster.

"_Open up his mouth, boys."_

_The voice rang in his head but barely registered over his pounding heart. The hands were stretching his mouth painfully, forcing him vulnerable and exposed. _

God….God, it was soft. It was…_soft._

His stomach lurched and he gagged, yanking the toothbrush from his mouth and dropping it as if it were on fire. He gagged again and sobbed hard, barely able to breathe.


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story**

He cried so hard that he hunched over, shaking his head.

"I didn't want to let them do it," he sobbed. His chest shook violently. "I fought like hell not to let them…I didn't want them to."

Standing stock-still in absolute horror and sadness, Kathy could only watch Olivia step up beside the bed and place her hand delicately around the back of his neck. Blood roared in her ears as she struggled to breathe, feeling like she might choke.

"No," Olivia said painfully, her voice tender and soft. "Elliot, you didn't ask for any of this to happen. No one thinks you did." She shook her head with conviction, gently pulling herself closer to him. "No one."

He sobbed brokenly and turned his face away from her, his expression crumpled.

As she watched Olivia gently bring her hand up to stroke the back of his head, Kathy's eyes filled with pained tears.

At that moment, she realized that Olivia had been right.

She had frozen.

Elliot's words had sickened and shocked her so much that she had been absolutely….

Frozen.

As much as she loved him….as much as she so desperately wanted to just swallow him in her arms and shelter him from his pain for the rest of her life….she couldn't.

She had absolutely no clue how to deal with this.

Olivia did.

She had walked away from a lifelong commitment on impulse and single-handedly destroyed every chance they may have had to try to know each other again. She had chosen to keep her pride intact rather than make an effort to understand his pain.

_And now you're wondering why he doesn't seem to trust you._

The thought made her precarious grip on the tears disappear. They flowed down her face silently and she didn't even care.

She still loved him. A lifetime apart wouldn't change that. If she wanted any semblance of redemption, she was going to have to suck up her own selfishness and help him in every way possible. He needed Olivia now and she had to accept it.

Even if it killed her.

"Here."

Olivia's voice brought her out of her thoughts. Kathy watched her reach around carefully for one of the cups on the nightstand. "Here…here's some water."

She brought it in front of him, gently coaxing him as he took a shaky sip.

"There you go," she said softly, pulling it away after he had a mouthful. Her free hand was stroking through his hair rhythmically. "That's better…nice and slow, there you go."

When he swallowed, Kathy noticed that he looked less panicked.

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"_You know, you can tell a lot from a man by looking at his fingers."_

The blue ballpoint pen was starting to run out of ink. Scowling, Casey bore down harder against the cardstock and struggled to finish writing out the sentence in her brief.

"_Check out Elliot's some time."_

Her heart was thumping so painfully that it seemed to be convulsing. She had the television on as she worked, desperate to concentrate on something else…_anything_ else.

But the damn voices just wouldn't stop invading her memory.

She was taking a big gamble. Working on such important legal documents with _Dr. Phil_ blaring in the background offered ample opportunity for mistakes and mishaps. Add to that the fact that she had gotten almost no sleep the night before and the probability of fucking up something simple became almost guaranteed.

"_He'll behave…won't he?"_

The previous night had been an exercise in torment. She tried a hundred different ways to relax enough to get her brain to wind down. Nothing had worked. When she did manage to sleep, the faces of Elliot and the men seeped into her dreams.

She'd thought nothing any of them could say would have the power to disturb her, but that parting shot from Ethan Jones had proven her wrong.

Violently wrong.

He hadn't elaborated. Hell, to anyone passing, it would seem like a legitimate statement. But the look in his eyes…..

She knew.

She knew what he meant and he knew that. He planned on it. It was his way of rubbing it in her face. His way of reminding her once again that he had managed to break a man everyone thought of as unbreakable…and he had taken pleasure doing it.

God, it was so…_sick. _Jesus….how could anyone be that sick? How could...

_Damn it, Casey! Concentrate. Concentrate._

Shaking her head, she blew out an angry breath and reread the paragraph she had been vacantly staring at for the third time.

He would get his. They all would. Elliot's statement, combined with the rape kit, combined with the crime scene evidence….

They would get justice. Even if the judge didn't send every one of them away for life…they would get justice.

Hell was nice and hot and waiting patiently.

The thought made a vicious smirk rise on her lips and she began reading once more with new determination.

"_Check out Elliot's some time."_

"_Check out Elliot's some time."_

"_Check out Elliot's-"_

Her hands came up savagely over her ears and she bent her head, shaking it back and forth in despair. The voice just kept repeating itself.

The pen skittered from onto the floor, an angry blue smudge adorning the line she had been working on.

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His gait was slow and measured as he crossed over the grass towards the porch. He inhaled and exhaled nervously with each step, contemplating even as he walked as to whether or not this was a good idea. He probably wasn't on the man's list of people to see right now, especially after the last bombshell he had dropped on him.

Swallowing as he reached the steps, he automatically began climbing them anyway and was standing before the wooden door before he realized it, his hand out ready to knock.

The sight of the door opening before he even made contact shocked Don so much that he almost fell over.

Standing in the doorway was a stranger in the body of the detective he had known. His posture was weary, his clothes were rumpled, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks. His glasses were off and his eyes were absolutely dead.

For the first time since meeting him, John Munch looked old.

Cragen stood staring, not saying a word, honestly too startled to form any thoughts. After a few moments, John sighed and met his eyes.

"Come in," he said quietly.

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Her car was still in the driveway.

Mike Warner's eyebrows shot up as he parked behind it and shut off the ignition. Grabbing the envelope of bills he had just gotten from the bank, he got out of the truck and headed toward the house.

The door was still locked, but at soon as he unlocked it and stepped inside his ears were assaulted by the sound of the dryer banging shut from the garage.

"Mel?"

She jumped, nearly slamming her head on the inside of the dryer, and backed out quickly from where she was hunched over with her body halfway inside the machine. Her husband stood on the concrete steps with a concerned expression on his face, keys still in hand.

Her face melted into a loving smile. "You scared me," she said lightly.

"What are you doing?" he asked, not relaxing in the slightest.

"I called in sick," she said, smiling again. She bent toward the dryer again, dipping her head low once more. Her cheery, carefree tone confused him even more as her muffled voice came out towards him. "Did you know there's a sock crammed in the lint trap? No wonder every load comes out so covered in lint….I didn't even think it was possible for this thing to fit in here."

"Melinda."

His urgent, anxious voice surprised her, making her back out quickly again. Mike's face was scrunched worriedly as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Are you alright? Do you feel okay?" he asked, seeming to be becoming more confused with every word.

She looked at him, her head cocked as she studied him quizzically.

"I feel fine," she said, her tone becoming more serious when she saw just how upset he looked. She began coming toward him. "Honey, what-?"

"Why did you call out?" he asked. He was looking at her cautiously, as if he didn't trust her. "You never call out even when you're dying."

A playful grin caressed her lips at her husband's unintentional pun. "Of course I don't," she said. "Who would perform my autopsy?" Seeing he was not amused or even smiling, her face went slack and she sighed seriously. "Sweetheart, I'm fine. Really." She shook her head. "I just….I just need a day away. That's all."

Mike raised an eyebrow slightly.

"You're sure nothing's wrong," he double-checked uncertainly, opening his arms automatically as she stepped up toward him.

She responded by pressing herself into him and kissing him passionately, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm positive," she said assertively, smoothing a hand over his faint stubble. She smiled brightly. "Hey, why don't we go out to lunch? I'll call the school and have them send Kayla to daycare. She loves it there."

"Sure," he agreed, nodding. "Sounds great, baby."

She smiled again and buried herself into his coat. As he hugged her and caressed her back, the knot in his stomach grew even more and he was glad he had been able to keep his expression nonchalant in front of her.

She never needed a day away from the morgue and he could tell her smile had been forced.

She wasn't fine at all.

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"I assume you listened to it?"

The tense, awkward silence stretching endlessly around them was finally broken when the captain spoke. His voice was quiet, drying up as soon as the statement was out, and he didn't look over towards where the detective sat on the couch.

John didn't look over at him either and didn't reply. His gaze was out the open window into overcast afternoon.

More silence fell. Cragen's eyes darted nervously around the tastefully decorated living room, idly taking in the abstract paintings hanging in various spots on the walls and the man's obvious love for early 20th filmography. He never in a million years would have pictured this man for the likes of silent movies and westerns.

Finally, he sighed, bringing his nerves together.

"Listen, John," he said carefully, begging with his eyes for the detective to face him. "I-"

"I couldn't untie him."

The abrupt statement was quiet and packed with enough emotion to make the captain shut his mouth. He stared painfully at the other man's profile, watching his throat contract as he swallowed.

"The knots were too tight." His voice was hoarse and Don caught the telltale glistening of tears as they slowly seeped down the cheek turned toward him. "He was scared and he was crying and I…" His voice cracked. "I couldn't untie him."

After another minute, he turned away from the window to face his captain. All of the inward anguish, agony, and defeat that had been eating away at this man since the day Elliot had been kidnapped broadcasted itself in his expression.

"He was tied to the dock like some…some _animal_," he continued, sounding incredulous. His eyes squinted painfully. "Right in the sand where the waves washed up to shore."

He swallowed, his voice strangled. Don didn't speak, sensing that what John was saying had been locked inside tormenting him since that very day.

"I tried to pick him up…he was naked." His hands were trembling where they sat clenched in his lap. "_Naked_."

His eyes met Cragen's then and the older man saw fury in them, making them appear black.

He had never seen them that way before.

"It's the middle of _fucking_ December and they have him lying in twenty degree lake water." His voice shook. "And the bastards wouldn't even put any clothes on him."

In an instant, Don watched the hard mask slip back over his face.

"If you came here expecting me to apologize for what I did," he said viciously. "You can go to hell. I'm not sorry…if I could break that fucker's neck with my own two hands I would in a heartbeat."

He stopped talking then, the adrenaline and emotion making him slightly winded. Cragen allowed another few moments of silence to fall before finally speaking.

"John, why haven't you gone to see Elliot?"

His voice was soft and held none of the retaliating anger the detective had been expecting. In fact, his face was genuinely sad as he stared back at him.

John's mouth opened instantly to fire a defensive retort and he was surprised when he was unable to say anything.

The captain remained silent and waited.

Seeing that the man wasn't going to let it go, John swallowed hard.

"I can't," he said roughly. "I can't see him like…" His eyes spilled over again. "I'm the one who put him there."

Don made sure not to let any sympathy or disbelief pass over his face as he replied.

"How did you put him there?" he asked. "You didn't take him from that warehouse. You didn't leave him tied up in the cold. You didn't hurt him." He paused a moment to see if any of his words were having an effect on the other man. "John, you _helped _him. You were the first one to find him that night."

Munch shook his head.

"No, I didn't," he said, his voice broken with tears. "I didn't help him, Captain. He was so terrified of me that he didn't know which end was up."

He broke down into sobs then.

"I should have told him who I was," he said painfully. "I should have taken the gag out of his mouth so he could breathe." Don realized the man's entire body was shaking now. "But instead I…I made some officer _hold him down_. He was hysterical and petrified and I made a man restrain him while I cut the ropes off."

Don shook his head desperately.

"You were taking care of the most immediate problem," he said. "You were getting him free."

"He was _begging_!" John yelled. Overwhelmed, he shoved away from the couch to stand on his feet, the emotions making it impossible to sit still any longer. "Jesus Christ…he wasn't even able to speak but I could hear him pleading the entire time. _Pleading!"_

Cragen was startled when John suddenly dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks. He fell face first to the carpet and sobbed hard.

Don carefully edged his way off of the recliner he was perched on and onto the floor.

The guttural howls beginning to come from the broken man a few feet away sounded inhuman and agonizing.

"John," the captain said softly, laying a gentle hand on his back. "John, I know what happened that day in the lockup. I know about what Evans said." There was no reply from the other man. "I didn't give you the tape to make you apologize. I gave it to you so you'll see how much Elliot needs you."

John exhaled shakily, getting to his knees.

"Please," Don said desperately, backing away from the man's space. "Please, John. What's it going to take for you to be there for him?"

He shook his head. "I can't," he said painfully. "I can't, Captain. I can't bear to make him see me. It's my fault he's there."

"He doesn't think it's your fault, John-" Cragen began.

"No, he does," he interrupted harshly. "And he should…he has every right-"

"He thinks it's his."

The words cut through Munch like a cold knife, shocking him to silence. He turned his head back toward the captain. His eyes pierced through the older man as his lips curled up into an angry sneer.

"No, he doesn't," he said dangerously.

Cragen gestured angrily towards the entertainment center a few feet away. "You listened to the tape," he snapped, frustration with the man getting hold of him. "Right? Did you listen to the tape?"

John didn't say anything, but the pain on his face made it obvious.

"Yes, he does." Don's voice became quiet and sad. "He does, John."

The younger man looked desperately away, tears falling down his face again. Cragen swallowed and struggled numbly to his feet.

"I told you before," he said wearily. "I can't make you do anything." He shook his head tiredly. "I can't clear you for duty yet and I can't make you see him. But I want you to know this is the last time I'm going to come here. I've done my best, John….but you're not the one I need to be spending my energy on right now."

Don gave the other man a soft pat on the shoulder and a meaningful look that he hoped would be interpreted before walking toward the door without another word.

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"Good morning."

Doctor Beck knocked once as he spoke before stepping into the room.

Olivia was immediately suspicious. Not only was it too early to start Elliot's rounds of medicine for the day, the man was unusually chipper and smiling. Normally he came in cautiously, especially when her partner was awake and aware of his presence.

She looked back toward Elliot. He had woken up before she had that morning, but had been lightly dozing off after she had awakened.

As expected, the new voice startled him into alertness fast. His eyes shot open wide and his hand immediately flew towards the side of the bed where hers had been lying the previous night as she slept beside him in the chair.

"Good morning, Doctor Beck," she replied softly.

The doctor stepped up nearer to her and she felt his hand clutching tighter as he came closer. Smiling tenderly, Olivia brought her other hand around to clasp his and squeezed his fingers reassuringly.

"How are you doing this morning, Ms. Benson?" he asked kindly.

"Very well, thank you," she replied, turning her head towards the older man with a smile.

"And you, Elliot?" he continued. His green eyes were warm. "How are you feeling?"

His eyes were guarded and his expression hesitant as he looked up at the doctor warily. She could feel his pulse pounding through his hand and she squeezed again, trying to bring him comfort.

"Okay," he said softly.

Doctor Beck nodded pleasantly. "That's wonderful," he said. He switched his gaze back to Olivia briefly. "Well, I realize it's not time for us to start your medicine, Elliot…" His eyes were twinkling merrily as he looked back to his patient. "But today is going to be a little different."

She saw her partner swallow.

"Different?" she echoed for his benefit.

He winked lightly at her before smiling gently down at Elliot.

"You getting tired of that thing yet?" he said teasingly, looking over towards the cast on the other side of the bed. "Ready to get rid of it?"

As he spoke, the arrival of three nurses drew their attention behind him. One of them was wheeling an awkward-looking contraption through the door. She could clearly see the fear beginning to creep into Elliot's face as he eyed the huge round blade with jagged teeth attached to the machine and couldn't help feeling a small twinge as well.

"This is a buzz saw," Doctor Beck continued, as he stepped away to help the nurse position it on the other side of the bed. "You've probably seen these things in hardware stores." His expression became teasing. "They're good for splitting wood, casts, and the occasional hard-shelled lobster."

The fright on both of their faces couldn't be ignored, however, and the doctor's expression softened almost instantly.

"It just looks scary," he said gently. "It's perfectly safe, I promise." He gently lifted the cast in both of his hands and traced a circle around the top and down to the underside. "The blade will cut through the plaster, removing it from the bone, and the cast will crack in half like a big walnut."

He took his hand away, looking to Olivia. "I'm going to let you hear what it sounds like, so you can be prepared, okay?"

The warning didn't do much good even for her. She jumped about a foot when the saw came to life. It ground and whirled with a horrible screeching sound that was almost deafening. Elliot nearly fell over the railing in his scramble to get closer to her.

The machine died almost an instant after it started and his whimpers became the overbearing sound in the room. He had his face turned away and nearly smashing into the metal railing as he pressed it against her arm. She stroked the back of his head, feeling him trembling.

"It will only take a minute," he continued. "You won't feel anything except maybe a little bit of heat…that's just the friction from the saw, nothing to worry about. It will just take a minute."

He only pressed his face tighter against her arm. She looked up at the doctor apologetically.

"Take your time," Doctor Beck encouraged kindly. "Whenever you're ready, Elliot. I won't do anything until you're ready, I promise."

Olivia reached for the rabbit next to him and brought it down between her arm and his hand.

"Here, baby," she said to him, rubbing over his neck. "Hold on to him." She gently coaxed the plush toward him until he could feel it against his skin. "Just hold on to him, nice and tight."

He shook his head desperately but didn't move from his tight squeeze against her arm. She pressed her face tenderly against his head and rubbed his back. Biting her lip, she lifted her eyes to the doctor and nodded.

The noise was horrendous but the man was true to his word. After about ten seconds, a loud _crack _echoed and then the saw cut off at once.

"All done," Beck said immediately, lifting the two halves of plaster away.

Her partner's soft cries filtered out from around her arm. Her heart broke for him as she continued rubbing his back. She brought her face down near his and stroked it gently, speaking tenderly to him.

"That's it, sweetie," she murmured, as he sniffled and gulped. "You're fine. He's finished, Elliot. He's done."

It took another minute, but she managed to draw his face out from where he had it hidden. A large wet spot was left on her arm to match the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Doctor Beck smiled kindly. "You did it, Elliot," he said, holding up the remains of the cast. "You're cast is history."

He sniffled and didn't speak. He was still trembling.

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"Hey, Mom…"

The voice of her son cut through the angry haze of her brain trying to balance out the checkbook in front of her. Sighing through clenched teeth, Kathy swiveled the chair around away from the desk to face him.

"Yeah?" she answered tiredly.

"The UPS guy is outside," he told her.

She rubbed her tired eyes wearily and nodded. "Ok," she said. "Thanks. I'll be right there."

He disappeared from sight. Sighing again, she stood up, wincing at the cracks and pops she heard from many different places.

_Damn it…I'm too young to feel old._

Stepping out onto the hardwood floor of the hallway, she walked toward the front entrance.

"Hi," she said, smiling at the young man standing on her porch as she opened the storm door.

"Hello," the man said cheerfully. He held out the medium sized box and placed it in her arms. "You got it?"

"Yep," she said, turning around to place it just inside the door. She turned back to sign the ledger he was holding out. "There you go."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, winking. "You have a nice day."

He was walking briskly back across the yard before she barely had a chance to return the sentiment.

Shrugging, Kathy stepped back inside and closed the door.

"What's that?" Elizabeth asked, nearly making her mother jump from surprise at seeing her just behind her.

"I don't know," she said, mystified. She looked at her daughter with a teasing lift of eyebrows. "Did I miss somebody's birthday?"

Elizabeth shrugged.

"Dad's is in a couple of days," she said. "Maybe that's for him."

Kathy felt like someone had just punched her in the gut.

It was January 6th.

Elliot's birthday was on the 10th.

"I'm going over to Hannah's," she went on. She hadn't even realized her daughter was wearing her coat.

Elizabeth waited for the standard "call me when you get there" order as she neared the door and was surprised when none came.

"Mom?"

She turned back around, confused to see Kathy staring at the box as if it had a bomb in it.

"Mom?" she repeated. Her mother's head snapped toward her fast. "Did you hear what I said?"

Kathy blinked dumbly, visibly shaken. "Oh- uh, yeah," she said quickly. Her voice was weak. "Yeah, go ahead. Have fun."

She wasn't looking at her daughter and so the puzzled look sent her way was lost as Elizabeth left.

Her hands were shaking as she opened the brown cardboard box. She rooted around through the packaging peanuts until she hit smooth paper and felt her way around it enough to pull it out.

The box was small, a perfect cube, and wrapped in royal blue paper adorned with a small white bow. A large white envelope sat on top with a folded piece of paper taped over it.

She set the present on the couch and picked up the envelope, peeling off the letter so she could read the postmark.

Winston-Salem, North Carolina.

Mrs. Charlotte Marshall.

She felt the tears rushing up fast and swallowed, forcing herself rather savagely to relax.

Her grandmother was pushing 93 this year and loving life. It always made her smile when she remembered family trips to see her as a child.

She unfolded the notebook paper blindly.

_Dear Elliot and Katherine,_

Katherine. Her grandmother was the only one in the world who still called her that.

_Hello from across the world. The stagecoaches and horses aren't running as quickly as I'd like them to be here and I'm terribly sorry you haven't gotten many letters._

A laugh burst out reflexively. Grandma Charlotte had always been such a pistol….she was forever cracking on how old she was and how much more advanced the world was for her grandchildren. She loved to tease them, saying it felt like she lived in another country.

_I've included a present for my favorite grandson. Elliot, I've told you before I don't have much time left…my looks won't last forever, you know. Get your butt down here so we can get married already, would you?_

She burst out laughing again, this time the sound so loud that she looked around to see if any of her children were around.

God, she needed this.

Charlotte had told Kathy on her wedding day that Elliot was the most handsome boy she had ever seen since her last husband. She absolutely adored him and he returned the affection in kind. It was their favorite joke to tell Kathy they were going to run away together and get married.

_Give my love to the kids, and for heaven's sake, send me some pictures of them, huh? I miss all of you and hope you're doing well. Maybe I'll come for a visit in the spring when it's not too hot, see some of those famous skyscrapers. I love you all and God Bless._

She swallowed hard and folded the letter back up.

Had they ever told Grandma Charlotte about the divorce? She sent all six of them presents every year on birthdays and Christmas, cards on Mother's and Father's Day, letters when she felt like it...Kathy was willing to bet they never had. It would have broken the old woman's heart and they never would willingly do that.

Setting the card back on top of the present, she picked up both and turned to take them to her room.

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He was debating whether or not to go back to the precinct.

Today's fun-filled expedition had consisted of being a fucking errand boy for the other detective's in the squad.

Even with the revelation to Cragen from Kessler and the captain's assurance that they were not going to be rebuked from his end, Internal Affairs had yet to give them the affirmative to return to duty. He had done a little filing for Williams in the morning, went down to see Melinda Warner at the morgue when Jackson and Peters needed autopsy results (to his relief she hadn't talked to him about anything outside of the case she was currently working on), and then been sent to the crime scene lab to inquire about a case that was on the verge of being labeled as cold.

The case was still being worked on and he had been told there was nothing tangible to present to the catching pair of detectives as of yet, so now he was standing outside the building in the middle of New York City pedestrian chaos thinking of the repercussions if he were to call it a day.

It was nearly six and he was hungry. The deli across the street had been enticing him since the moment he saw it as he was going inside the building. A hot roast beef and Swiss sounded wonderful right now.

_What's waiting for me at the precinct?_

His brow furrowed angrily.

_Filing reports, three empty desks around mine, and Lieutenant "I just need you to do me one favor…" Barry._

No.

He scoffed and approached the crosswalk, pulling out his cell phone.

_I think I'm feeling sick tonight._

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"Hello," Doctor Beck said cheerfully, stepping into the room.

Kathy was sitting on the left side of the bed and was able to see the door without having to move. Olivia sat on the opposite side, flipping through the day's newspaper quietly, and caught the amused smirk on the other woman's face as she was twisting around to see.

The sight of the distinguished, slightly graying doctor wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and Penn State University varsity jacket made her start. The surprise lasted a split second; the man was grinning impishly and she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"How are you ladies doing this fine evening?" he continued, stepping further inside the door.

As he approached them, he set a black bag on the floor by the wall. Upon closer look, Olivia recognized it as a leather briefcase.

"Wow, Doctor Beck," Kathy said quietly, with feigned awe in her voice. They had seen him that afternoon in standard clothing. She was smiling teasingly. "Love the look…casual Tuesday?"

He smiled. "Only to those of us who don't work on the same floor as the boss," he cracked dryly. His tone made Olivia snort without being able to help it and her reaction made him chuckle. "No…I'm not working the night shift tonight so I'm actually on my way out, but I wanted to stop in before I leave to see how things are."

"Ah," Kathy said, nodding. Her expression sobered somewhat. "Well, we're doing fine…"

Her gaze traveled back to the bed. The doctor's followed hers and he grimaced when he realized Elliot was asleep, having not been quiet with his earlier words.

"He went out just a little while ago." She exchanged a slightly confused look with Olivia and it was evident in her voice. "Actually…we were surprised that he went to sleep so fast. It usually takes an hour or so."

"I'm sorry," he apologized for his actions, lowering his voice immediately.

Olivia shook her head in reassurance, looking again at her best friend's still, expressionless face.

Catching sight of the brightly wrapped box sitting near Kathy's feet, the doctor's eyebrows went up curiously.

"Ah," he said pleasantly. "Is it your birthday?"

"Mine," Elliot said groggily.

Three sets of eyes went toward his face at once, startled. Doctor Beck looked chagrined.

"Oh, Elliot, I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to wake you."

He didn't reply, only sliding further up the pillow. The other man looked at Olivia and Kathy hesitantly but they didn't say anything either.

"Well," he said rather awkwardly. "Happy birthday to you."

He was again met with silence. Kathy felt sorry for the man and spoke up quickly.

"Well…early birthday," she said with a small smile. She looked over at Elliot with softness on her face. "It's actually not until the day after tomorrow."

The doctor's immediate, broad smile came as a bit of a surprise to both women. He looked absolutely thrilled.

"That is fantastic," he said, enthused. "Make sure to pick up some balloons on your way home, okay?"

The laughter shining in his eyes did nothing to give away his meaning. It took a few moments for them to pick up on what he was implying and when it did, Olivia and Kathy both looked immediately at Elliot.

He was looking at the doctor suspiciously. The look was so intense that the doctor couldn't help but laugh.

"On my way home?" he repeated.

The delight on the older man's features made the two women look at each other cautiously. It was obvious both were hoping the same thing but were afraid to voice the possibility aloud.

Doctor Beck nodded. "Yes, Elliot," he said. "You're going home on your birthday."

Elliot's eyes bugged out instantly in shock. Doctor Beck chuckled again.

"Are….you serious?" he finally said.

"Very serious," he said, nodding once more. "We're getting you out of here, Detective."

It faded much too quickly for her liking, but Olivia still saw the excitement that made Elliot's face shine.

It was by far the most welcome sight she had ever seen.

\


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story**

The blue Chevy Impala came to a stop just inside the parking lot, next to a curb by the entrance. The driver stepped out and locked the door, striding briskly across the pavement toward the building.

He looked keenly around through tinted glasses, squinting in the bright morning sunlight and headed straight for the small building marked **OFFICE.**

John pulled open the glass door and stepped onto rough carpet. The desk was empty and he was the only occupant in the room.

Stepping up to the oak desk, he spied a bell and began bouncing his hand over top of it in regular intervals, not loud enough to disturb but just enough to become an annoyance. He stood patiently through his racket and waited.

As expected, a tall man appeared from a side room after about a minute looking perturbed.

"Yes?" he said, sounding edgy and slightly breathless. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm here to make a payment," John said, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet.

"Yes, sir," the man said. "Apartment number?"

"312," he answered automatically.

The man turned his back to him and went around to the other side. He opened a filing cabinet, rooting through several dividers. He stopped and flipped through one before suddenly straightening, turning to face John again. His expression had turned suspicious.

"That apartment is being rented by Elliot Stabler," he said.

John just looked at him, implying that he was stating the obvious. That made the man's face harden even more.

"I need to see your identification," he said.

John opened his wallet. "Sure," he said condescendingly. He lowered the badge to drop in front of the man's face. "Detective John Munch, Manhattan Special Victims Unit."

Realization and sadness crossed the man's face as John watched him make the connection. When he spoke again, his voice was soft.

He took out several sheets of paper and laid them in front of John. "The payment for this month has already been taken care of, sir."

This surprised him. Looking at the form, he scanned to the bottom and read Kathy Stabler's signature.

He pursed his lips, thinking for only a moment.

"Well, then I'm here to pay for February," he said, extracting his credit card. He looked at the man expectantly. "$750, right?"

The man stared at him for a long moment before nodding.

"Right," he answered. He took the card from John. "I'll need to see your driver's license."

"Sure," John answered, handing that over as well.

The man checked the signature and name match on the credit card. "Thank you," he said, handing it back to him.

He slid the card through a machine and handed that back as well. A loud printer started up and the man turned around again to wait for it. After a few moments, a page was spit out.

"Sign here, please," he said, sliding the sheet and a pen over the desk. John scrawled his signature and slid it back. "Would you like a receipt?"

"Yes," he replied softly.

It took another minute for the copy to be printed. When the man handed it over, John was sure he had something he wanted to say and anticipated.

But the man just handed it to him without another word.

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"That's the last of the medication," Doctor Beck said softly, careful to not let his voice carry through the open door. "It should take about fifteen minutes or so to wear off completely."

Seeing the looks on their faces, he hastened to continue speaking. "The sedatives will make sure he stays asleep through the day and give his body time to relax in preparation for his release tomorrow." He looked at them sympathetically, his voice softening. "Have you given thought to what you'll do once he's discharged?"

Kathy had her arms crossed tightly over her chest and was biting her lip. Olivia was anxiously scraping one foot across the floor, her eyes darting back and forth repeatedly from the doctor to the inside of the room where Elliot was sleeping.

It became obvious after a minute that Olivia wasn't going to speak. Kathy felt like a rock was in her chest. She had to strain to take a full breath and tried vainly to avoid the doctor's eyes, feeling her cheeks heating.

"W-we have," she said finally. "For right now, he's going to go home with Olivia." She swallowed. "I still have to work and my kids…." The doctor was looking at her openly. She swallowed again. "I…I just don't believe I'm the best person to handle the circumstances as they are at the moment."

Her face blanched the moment the words left her mouth.

_God, that sounded so incredibly selfish. Great going, idiot._

"What-what I mean," she rushed on, "is that it wouldn't be fair to Elliot because I'm not able to give him my undivided attention." She was certain her face was flaming now. "He feels safer with Olivia, and to be honest, he _is_ safer with her. She specializes in working with…" Her throat closed. "She can protect him if need be."

Realizing she was on the verge of rambling, Kathy forced herself to stop and breathe, casting her eyes awkwardly to the floor as she felt them filling with tears.

Even despite their many conversations on the subject, Olivia still found herself shocked and humbled by the other woman's words. Seeing she was having a hard time, she was quick to jump in.

"My boss pretty much knows that I won't be returning to active duty for the time being," she said. "I live alone and will be able to devote all of my time to his care."

The way the doctor was looking at her was making her self-conscious and she didn't like it. Furrowing her brows under his intent stare, she dropped her gaze slightly.

"I'm going to be there as often as possible," Kathy added. "I'm going to help however I can as often as I can." She glanced at the other woman anxiously.

Doctor Beck pursed his lips and finally spoke. "You both are in agreement?" he asked quietly. The tone of his voice was unsettling as he gazed squarely between them.

The look of puzzlement on Kathy's face couldn't be masked as she looked at Olivia. She saw the same mirrored in her eyes.

"Yes," Olivia said. Her features turned slightly defensive. "You're not?"

The doctor nodded his head quickly, holding up his hands. "I'm happy with whatever you decide," he said reassuringly, then paused. "Just….just make sure you're keeping Elliot's best interest in mind, that's all."

"We are, Doctor Beck," Kathy said, and she couldn't stop the edge in her voice. "He feels safe with Olivia…he wants to stay with her." Her tone dripped bitterness despite her best intent to hide it and Olivia looked at her in surprise. "As far as we're concerned, right now it's all about what he wants."

_Even if I think it's a bad idea, _she silent finished darkly.

Beck nodded again. "I wasn't patronizing," he said, making the blonde feel guilty for her edgy tone. "As long as you're all in agreement, I'm happy." He looked to Olivia. "When Elliot is more aware we'll start discussing specifics about his care. I need to-"

"I'm awake."

The weak, groggy voice floating through the door startled all of them. Olivia was closest to the doorway and stepped inside to see her partner sprawled limply against the pillow, blanket pulled tight around him, and looking back at her tiredly. He looked like he had been roused from dead sleep by the look of exhaustion on his face.

The three of them stepped into the room with the doctor hanging back slightly. Elliot blinked heavily and yawned as the two women came closer.

"No offense, Doc," he mumbled groggily. "But your bedside manner sucks."

The blush that rose on the older man's face made Olivia chuckle.

"I seem to make a habit of doing that, don't I?" he said in amusement, obviously not offended in the least. His expression turned serious after a moment. "I do apologize, Elliot. I wasn't trying to wake you."

Elliot shrugged lazily, the movement causing a sharp gasp to escape between his teeth unexpectedly. Olivia looked at the doctor worriedly and saw a sympathetic expression on his face.

"Try and stay still," he said gently. "Your body isn't going to react well to having the medicine taken away."

"Then give it back," Elliot said sourly, eyes already half-closed again.

Kathy looked at him apologetically and Beck chuckled softly, his expression letting her know he didn't mind.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I wish I could, Elliot, really I do…but I'm afraid if we don't give your body time to adjust before you get out of here you'll be in pain on your way home. I wouldn't want that."

His eyes had drifted shut again. Doctor Beck pursed his lips, smiling gently, and turned toward the women.

"He'll be like this most of the day," he said. "Don't try to keep him up…he needs all the rest he can get." He moved away from the bed, gesturing them to do the same.

"I'll go over more of this tomorrow once he's awake, but I want to make sure you have time to get things ready for tomorrow," he said quietly, standing near the doorway again.

His eyes fixed more on Olivia as he spoke. "He won't be able to keep more than water down for the first few days…make sure you keep him drinking steadily throughout the day. Once that passes, it will be strict liquid protein." His voice was firm. "Start out with Ensure once a day and work your way up. Keep it slow, but he'll need to be having three cans a day by the end of the first two weeks."

Olivia nodded.

"If he gets tired of water, you can give him small amounts of Gatorade once in a while," he went on, "but no more than sixteen ounces at one sitting…otherwise his stomach will become rebellious." She grimaced slightly but he didn't even notice. "And absolutely no fruit juices or anything acidic."

She swallowed. Kathy looked back at Elliot hesitantly.

"How long until he can eat solid food again?" she asked softly, sounding worried.

Beck looked at her tenderly. "It's going to be a while," he said gently. "He's been deprived of nourishment for far too long and his system will reject anything foreign in a heartbeat. I can't give you an exact estimate, Mrs. Stabler….it all depends on his strength."

She shook her head slightly, sighing tearfully. He gazed at her sympathetically.

"Make sure someone brings some warm clothes for him before he leaves," he said, addressing both of them again. "He's to be bundled up anytime he is exposed to the outside air. Blanket, coat, scarf…whatever you have to do. It won't take much for his body temperature to go down."

Elliot sniffled in his sleep and Doctor Beck glanced over at the bed, as did Olivia and Kathy.

"I'll be going over all of this again in the morning," he said. "Just let him rest."

Olivia nodded. "Thank you," she said softly.

Kathy echoed her, but it was obvious that her voice was strained.

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_Beep beep._

The noise startled him and he jumped, slamming his elbow against the desk. He swore and rubbed the spot hotly.

_Beep beep._

Don looked around and tried to figure out what the noise was. His instincts had him getting up and crossing to the coat tree to see if his cell phone was in his coat pocket.

_Beep beep._

Becoming more annoyed with the noise by the minute, he searched through his trench coat pockets and came up with nothing. He stood still and waited tensely.

_Beep beep._

His head turned automatically towards his desk again and he came back to it, sifting through papers, files, paper clips, and pens.

_Man…this office is turning into a bigger pigsty than my house._

When the beeping sounded again, it was louder and he quickly lifted up a few sheets of paper to reveal the compact black Motorola. He picked it up and opened it.

_One new voice message._

He punched in the password and sat down, rolling his eyes as he tried in vain to organize some of the debris in front of him.

"Captain, it's Olivia."

He sat up straight suddenly and felt his heart pounding. _God, please don't let anything have happened to Elliot…_

"I wanted to let you know that the doctor is letting him go home on the tenth…"

Disbelief, anxiety, and overwhelming relief swamped him all at once. His mouth dropped open reflexively and he didn't even notice.

"and that for now he'll be staying with me at my apartment. Listen, um….I-I realize that this is going to create a lot of problems and I wanted to talk to you about it. Please give me a call as soon as you can. Thanks."

_Oh, boy._

Don's heart sank. She was definitely right….and he wasn't looking forward to calling her back.

He put the phone back down and sat back for a few moments, contemplating different situations in his head and not liking a single one he came up with. When the phone on his desk rang, he snatched it up quickly, glad for the distraction.

"Yeah," he answered brusquely.

"Captain, it's Melinda Warner," she said. "I've completed the autopsy on your violin teacher."

"Okay, thanks, Melinda," he said automatically, even though his mind was nowhere near their latest case. "I'll get two detectives down there right now."

He hung up and stood, heading toward the office door.

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"You want a ride?"

Hannah was looking back towards her mother's Jeep Grand Cherokee somewhat impatiently as people swarmed all around them, heading for the bus ramp.

Elizabeth hesitated only for a moment.

"No, that's okay," she declined, shaking her head. "Not today."

Her friend shrugged and surprised her when she didn't ask if she was sure.

"Okay," she said. "See you tomorrow."

With a small wave, the redhead turned and hurried toward the car, her messenger bag swinging on her shoulder.

"Bye," Elizabeth said weakly to her friend's back.

She heard the sound of engines roaring behind her and watched a few kids sprinting across the parking lot to catch the buses before they pulled out. Turning around, she headed across the grass toward the crosswalk.

Home was a good ten miles and her mother was going to kill her if she found out she was walking from school.

But right now, she frankly didn't care. She would deal with all that when she got home.

She needed time to think and being in the backseat of a car with Hannah's younger brothers or squished in a bus with a fifty middle-schoolers wouldn't help.

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"Sure you don't want half?" Kathy asked again, holding out a portion of her sandwich. "I can go get you something else if you want."

Olivia smiled, waving her hand. "It's alright," she said for the second time. "I'm not hungry right now, really. Thank you, though."

The blonde shrugged and continued eating what served as her dinner. Olivia curled one leg up underneath her body as she looked at her sleeping partner. He hadn't woken since that afternoon when the doctor had been in with them and she was extremely grateful for whatever sedatives he had been given. Doctor Beck really knew how to knock a person out, that was for sure.

The room continued its tense silence. Neither of them felt particularly chatty tonight, and even if they never admitted it, both knew that they were worrying about what was to come the next day.

"We should make a list," Kathy said a few moments later, breaking the silence. Olivia looked at her. "I was thinking I can go home tonight and get some things packed from his apartment that he'll need for tomorrow."

She paused, looking thoughtful.

"I'll go ahead and stop by the store, also," she said. "Get you stocked with medicines and the Ensure…I can drop them off for you at your place if you want."

Olivia did a double-take, honestly shocked by the other woman's words.

"Wha-" she stammered, shaking her head quickly. "Kathy, no. You don't have to do all that-"

"How many packages of Ensure do you think we'll need?" she interrupted, obviously not attempting to listen to her protests. Her brows furrowed. "What do they come….four to a pack?"

"Kathy," Olivia tried again. "Please…I-"

"I think I'll go to Costco and get a bulk case just to be safe," the other woman continued, as if she hadn't heard. She nodded, looking satisfied. "I'd rather you have too many than not enough."

Olivia waited until she had stopped and looked at her squarely.

"Kathy," she said softly. "Why are you doing all this?"

The blonde looked back at her with a tender expression.

"We're in this together," she answered, smiling lightly. "You said it yourself. However I can help, I will."

A slow smile spread over the detective's face that spoke volumes.

"You have to work in the morning, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Kathy answered. "I have a showing at eleven…" Her brow furrowed. "I really think I should cancel, Olivia…you shouldn't have to-"

"Kathy," Olivia interrupted gently. "I appreciate the offer. Really, you have no idea how grateful I am that you're here to help." She smiled compassionately. "You can't sacrifice your income. Go to work. I'll be fine by myself getting him home." She nodded passionately. "Just come by afterward like you planned."

The other woman still looked doubtful.

"Really," she insisted. "Please…it's okay. I promise."

After a minute, the blonde shook her head slightly in defeat.

"All right," she said. She paused a moment before looking her in the eye. "Thank you, Olivia."

Smiling, she nodded.

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The hot shower did wonders for her tense back. Casey sighed blissfully as she turned the water off, stretching her shoulders once more and hearing a satisfying crack for her efforts.

She stepped out onto the tiled floor and dried herself, shrugging into a soft white robe provided by the hotel. She tilted her head upside down and rubbed a towel over her hair before flipping it back up to cascade down her shoulders.

She fingered it absently as she shut off the bathroom light.

_I should get a trim when I get home…maybe put some darker lowlights in this time._

Her father about had a heart attack the last time she had gone home for Thanksgiving and he had seen her bleached hair. She was the sole child to inherit his auburn tresses…the rest of her family was brunette.

Her older sister-in-law loved it the moment she saw it…she wasn't sure whether or not to take it as a compliment considering the woman was a hairdresser famous for her bisexual clientele, but when Peter, her favorite brother, had also gushed, she decided she would.

Her natural color was light auburn, almost strawberry, but thankfully not light enough to be deemed a "carrot top". She had once sworn that she would never color her hair, but after the first time her hairdresser convinced her to try highlights she had become hooked. Admittedly, it had taken a while to get used to the platinum blonde and she'd actually had to confess that it wasn't quite what she had in mind.

It was nearing eight pm and she hadn't yet had dinner. She contemplated putting on some sweats and going downstairs to the dining room.

The bed taunted her invitingly, the pillows strewn and looking oh-so-comfy along the headboard. She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the room service book on the nightstand.

_That would be…no._

She flopped down on the fluffy comforter and picked up the book, flipping through the pages to see what struck her fancy. The final round of _Jeopardy _was on low in the background and she glanced up for a moment to see if she knew the answer.

Nope.

Her eyes came back down and she continued looking, finally deciding on a club sandwich. She called downstairs to place the order and was assured it would arrive shortly.

Thanking the young man on the phone, she hung up and then reached over to check her cell phone. To her surprise, she had received a message while she had been in the shower. She punched in the number and listened.

"Casey, it's Olivia," she said. "I'm just calling to let you know the doctor cleared Elliot to go home. He'll be staying with me for now at my apartment. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

She hung up, astonished, and put the phone back on the night stand in a daze. For a moment, she just repeated the message in her head a few times to make sure she had heard correctly.

Then she smiled gleefully for the first time in weeks.

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Her gasp was so loud that she choked herself.

Popping her eyes open, Olivia rocketed forward out of the chair and almost fell when her sleepy limbs protested. Ignoring the tingling ache in her ankles, she groped in the darkness toward the bed.

She carefully reached down and grasped his hand, pulling it gently toward her face. The remnants of the nightmare teased her brain and she allowed the tears to flow free. She kissed his palm slowly and sobbed.

"Wonderful Elliot," she whispered, holding the warm hand against her cheek. The memory of her dream made her shudder and sob once more. "I won't let anyone take you away again. I promise." She kissed the back of his hand and sniffled quietly. "I promise."

Swallowing, Olivia carefully placed his hand back against the mattress and closed her eyes.

_It was just a dream. Just a dream. He's not going anywhere, not anymore._

Even as she was repeating the words over and over to herself, her hand reached out to his face so that she could still feel him there.

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_Shit._

Cragen had just stepped off of the elevator when he suddenly realized that he had never returned Olivia's call the day before…and obviously by her message, it had been more than a day since she'd left it.

Making a mental note to call her as soon as he got into his office, he continued down the hall toward the squad room.

The sight of Fin sitting at his desk and scowling didn't surprise him.

It was the sight of John Munch standing in front of his office door that stopped him in his tracks. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The alarm blared and the sound of Nickelback floated into her dreams. It took her another minute to become aware and she slowly opened her eyes.

Quickly awakening, Maureen slipped down from the top bunk to shut off the alarm. She yawned and stretched, looking out at the overcast morning.

7:30 am.

In a little less than an hour, her father would be on his way home.

For the first time in almost three years, she picked up her Bible and sat down at her desk. She owed Him a debt of gratitude that could never be repaid.

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"What's this about, Counselor?"

Judge Verella sounded annoyed and Casey didn't really blame him. She knew this was the last place she wanted to be at 8:15 in the morning. Dwight Haskins also wore an expression of impatience from the seat next to her.

"I just wanted to let Your Honor know that I've been told Detective Stabler is being released from hospital care today," she said. "The people are requesting a continuance to allow him time to recuperate."

"Your Honor," Haskins cut in almost the moment she was finished. His tone was disgusted. "With all due respect…just how many more of my client's liberties are you going to allow the people to take?"

The judge looked at Haskins like he had grown a third head and Casey had to drop her eyes to keep from snorting.

"They were exonerated from kidnapping charges yet the people insist on sticking to their witch hunt," he went on agitatedly. "Now they're going to cool their heels in a county lockup and give the people more time to throw stones?" He shook his head. "Your Honor, you can't be serious. This is a blatant attempt by Ms. Novak of a crime-attack strategy."

His words were so unexpected that she nearly gasped out loud with shock and fury. Her teeth clenched of their own volition.

_That dirty, rotten bastard…_

Fortunately, her disbelief with the man wasn't transferred to her expression, which she was able to keep cool and composed as she refused to give him the satisfaction of a glance.

"We're dealing with not only a rape victim, Your Honor, but also a victim of violent abuse and brutality," she said icily. "Forcing him to face his attackers so soon is not only reckless, it's cruel."

Haskins leveled her with a snide stare.

"Why don't you just stop with the drama, would you?" he asked. "This isn't Court TV, Casey."

She gave him a vicious glare but before she could respond the judge interrupted.

"That's enough, both of you," Verella snapped.

Both attorneys looked at him with expressions similar to school children caught bickering. The old man glared at both of them threateningly, daring them to comment further, before leveling his eyes on the defense attorney.

"Mr. Haskins," he said angrily. "You're coldness says a lot about your character and I find myself disgusted with the level of insensitivity you have displayed throughout this case. Rest assured the state of New York is going to be hearing about it."

Haskins had the dignity to look abashed as he ducked his head away from the man's piercing glare.

"As Detective Stabler is the only one who can testify for the accusations made," he continued, looking back at Casey briefly, "we have no choice but to wait until he is able to do so."

She nearly smirked in satisfaction until she realized the judge was looking at her sternly.

"This does not, however," he went on, "give the people the right to trample on the defendant's civil rights." He raised his eyebrows stonily. "This time granted is solely for the victim's benefit… I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the repercussions if the people try to use the opportunity for their own."

She swallowed, shaking her head quickly.

"No, your Honor," she said.

Verella nodded.

"Very well, then," he said. "Motion of continuance granted."

He made a note on his briefing and Casey took the opportunity while his gaze was down to shoot a supercilious look at Haskins.

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"What are you doing here, John?"

He couldn't stop the edge in his voice as he moved around the other man to unlock the office door. The detective followed him inside.

"I wanted to see where we are on the case," he said.

"You couldn't have called to ask me that?" the captain said brusquely, hanging up his coat.

He caught the momentary look of confusion and hurt on John's face before it twisted into its defensive mask again. Don knew he was being harsh but couldn't help it. The man really was not thinking properly.

"Really, John," he said, sighing rather anxiously. "You shouldn't be here. If anybody from IAB finds out, you're likely to never get off suspension."

The taller man looked at him incredulously.

"You said you know about what happened," he said. The betrayal in his voice was easy to recognize, as was the dangerous glint in his eyes. When he got no response, John got even more agitated. "How can I still be suspended?"

Don spoke angrily in reaction to the man's attitude.

"It takes more than my word to convince them," he said heatedly. "You know that." He became aware that his voice was beginning to rise and bit his tongue, softening his tone reluctantly. "Look…" He looked at his detective sympathetically. "I'm doing the best I can. I promise you, I'm working on it…I'll get you back in here as soon as I possibly can."

John pursed his lips, scowling slightly, and sighed softly in frustration.

"I want to make this right, Captain," he said. His eyes were imploring. "Please."

Cragen's eyes lowered slightly before coming back up, his expression soft.

"I know you do," he said gently. "John…I can't discuss the case with you until you're officially on again." He watched the man's face fall. "I'm sorry."

John swallowed hard, his gaze on the desktop in front of him.

Without saying anything else, he walked out of the office and shut the door behind him.

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Olivia looked up at Doctor Beck and smiled brightly. He winked merrily as he strode through the doors, holding several papers in his hand.

"It's your big day," he said cheerfully. He stopped in front of the bed and grinned down at Elliot. "Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

He received no response other than a long blink and hesitant stare, but didn't mind.

"I have some things I need to discuss with you," he went on, instantly turning serious. "Are you up for that?"

His head rolled toward Olivia tiredly and he again said nothing. She smoothed into his hair with her hand.

"Go ahead," she said softly.

Her voice hid the pain she knew would be coming. The doctor saw the look on her face and grimaced sympathetically. He too knew how hard this was going to hit.

"Your body is going to need to build its strength up again," he began gently. "It's going to take a while, but it will. Don't forget that, Elliot…okay? It will."

His attempt at reassurance didn't seem to do anything, but at least Elliot was looking at him. Doctor Beck glanced hesitantly at Olivia again as he continued.

"Your system isn't going to be able to handle food yet," he said, "so we're putting you on liquid protein for nourishment and to get your weight back up. There's no rush…I imagine the first few days you won't be feeling very hungry and that's okay."

"Strict bed rest," he went on. "No sitting up on your own and no reaching for anything." His voice softened even more. "I'm sending a wheelchair home with you and I want you to use that anytime you need to get up, alright?"

Olivia watched her partner turn his head away from the doctor and closed her eyes briefly.

"But I encourage you to go outside," he said, his voice brightening slightly. "Sunshine and fresh air will do wonders for you…just make sure you keep warm so you don't get sick."

Elliot's gaze was resting on the ceiling now, his eyes bright. Olivia gently took his hand in both of hers.

"I want you to keep in touch with your regular physician," he went on, "and make sure to schedule regular visits. I'm giving you prescriptions for Vicoden and Codeine for the pain." His expression turned almost anxious. "These medicines must be taken very carefully. They are extremely strong doses and can be dangerous."

He sought out Olivia's pained stare and bit his lip hesitantly.

"Elliot," he said softly. "I know this is going to be difficult for you." He paused a moment. "The damage to your genitals is going to affect your ability of elimination. Using the restroom is going to be painful and you're going to need someone to assist you."

He concluded talking and pursed his lips slightly, his expression gentle. The sobs couldn't be held back and Elliot didn't try to.

Olivia's face was crumbled as well as she leaned in close to him and cradled his face in her hands, massaging his temples and smoothing his cheeks.

"You're going home, baby," she said tearfully, kissing his forehead. "That's all that counts, Elliot. You're going home."

She stroked his hair and pressed her lips to his cheek, feeling his tears against her skin.

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"Hey…Doc."

The breathless voice of Gary was a surprise and she looked up from her computer. He stood haphazardly in the doorway, his face red.

"Gary," she said, alarmed. She stood up instantly and went toward him. "What's the matter?"

"We've got five stiffs downstairs and I've got no reinforcements, that's what's the matter," he said wryly. "Two of 'em must weight 600 pounds between the both of them and I'm just not that strong."

She was out the door in seconds.

"Where are all the lab assistants?" she asked in confusion as they descended the staircase.

He shrugged. "Beats me," he said.

She could feel the frigid air from the open loading dock as she approached. Covered gurneys were positioned just outside and waiting.

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12:13

12:13

"Anything for you, Kath?"

She jumped about three feet, knocking her knee on the underside of the desk, and cursed under her breath.

Joann Barnes grimaced apologetically.

"Sorry," she said. "I thought you saw me."

She shook her head, forcing a laugh. "It's alright," she said.

"I'm taking lunch orders," she said. "You want anything?"

Her gaze automatically went back to the clock and she could feel her heartbeat as every tick sounded loudly.

12:15.

12:15.

They would be almost a quarter of the way home by now.

"Kathy?"

She jumped again.

The woman looked at her in concern. "Are you-?"

"Nothing," Kathy cut in quickly. "That's okay…thank you, I don't want anything."

She could feel her heart climbing up her throat now and swallowed hard.

Barnes shrugged. "Okay," she said. "See you."

Her heels clicked as she walked away from the office.

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For the third time in twenty-five minutes, Olivia jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right. Horns blared around her as she pulled the white Camry to the shoulder of the interstate and slammed on the brakes.

The passenger door swung on its hinges as Elliot crumbled forward, hanging by the seatbelt that was brutalizing his ribs while he vomited. She was crouching at his side in seconds, laying a gentle hand on his back but not speaking while he continued heaving and gagging violently.

He sobbed as he finished and sagged. She reached inside and unclipped his seatbelt, startled when he didn't hold himself up and pitched forward out of the car, hitting his knees in the dirt.

"It's okay," she soothed, wrapping him in a warm hug. The frigid air stung her ears but she didn't pay any attention, instead covering him with her body to keep him warm as he cried. "Shh…" She stroked his hair tenderly. "You're fine."

"Please just let me die," he moaned. He was sobbing so hard that she could feel his muscles contracting. "I can't do it…I can't do it, Olivia, please just let me die." His voice became hysterical. "**_Why couldn't they just let me die?_"**

She sat flat on her butt in the dirt and remained silent, holding him as the cars whipped down the expressway just feet from them. He shifted position and buried his face in her coat, shaking hard as he cried against her. She rubbed his back tenderly and stroked his hair while allowing the fit to run its course.

After a few minutes, he sniffled and gulped, pulling mere inches away.

"I can't do this," he whimpered. His eyes were red and so full of despair when he looked up into hers that it made her heart break. "We'll never get home this way, Olivia." He shook his head, his face crumbling again. "I can't do this."

Olivia hugged him warmly.

"We're almost halfway there, baby," she said patiently. He shivered and she rubbed his back again. "We'll stop as many times as you need to. There's no rush."

He shook his head and surprised her when he buried his face weakly back against her again.

"I'm sorry," he murmured tearfully.

"Hey," she chided gently. She rested her face against his head. "Hey…you haven't done anything wrong, Elliot. It's absolutely fine. If we have to, I'll get us a hotel room for the night."

He swallowed and sniffled again, remaining where he was for several more minutes. She didn't move until she felt him pull slightly away.

"You want to lie down in the backseat for a while?" she asked gently, looking at him tenderly. "It might make your stomach less upset."

Elliot nodded slightly.

"Alright," she said softly, struggling to get the circulation back into her calves. She hooked her arms around him and delicately lifted him to his feet. "Here we go…let's get back up here."

Fortunately, it was only about a step to the backseat, but he still couldn't hold back his anguished wail at moving his lower body.

Olivia opened the door with one hand while keeping him firmly upright with the other and slipped inside. She gently helped him inside, where he all but collapsed onto the leather seat.

The emotions chose that moment to begin rushing up her throat. She unzipped her coat with shaking hands and pulled it off, laying it around his shoulders. He sighed miserably and shivered despite the extra layers.

"Just rest," she said softly, swallowing hard. Her hands were light and gentle as she began massaging his temples. "Everything's fine, I've got you. Just rest."

His eyes slid wearily closed as his stomach momentarily righted itself and he became quiet. She kept up the soothing touches, allowing herself to break down.

The car doors still remained open and the speeding vehicles passing them effectively covered the sound of her sobs.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: I am aware that Manhattan and Buffalo are geographically further from each other than I am writing them to be…. is just for plot purposes only. My apologies for the delay in update. This chapter just wouldn't write for some reason. Sorry for the wait.**

"Mom?"

The hesitant voice of her second oldest was uncharacteristic to her nature and made her turn toward the doorway.

Kathleen stood just inside the bedroom, biting her lip and watching her packing the duffle bag with anxious eyes.

"Hmm?" she answered, half-concentrating as she reviewed the list of items she had packed in her head.

When she didn't get any answer, she looked up and was surprised to see Kathleen still standing timidly, like she was afraid to step closer to her.

"Something wrong, sweetie?" she questioned.

Her daughter continued worrying her lip and looking around everywhere. Kathy almost expected her to start jiggling her left foot the way she had done as a child whenever she was nervous or in trouble.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about school."

The words came out in a harsh rush but were so soft that she barely heard them, and once her daughter finished speaking her eyes went to the floor as if she were too ashamed to keep them up.

Relief and sympathy rushed her and she pursed her lips softly before gently moving the duffle bag further up the bed.

"Kat, come in here," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the comforter. She patted the spot beside her. "Come sit down."

Kathleen came the rest of the way inside and gingerly sat next to her mother. Kathy hugged her tightly almost before she was sitting and she was so startled that she jumped.

There were a million and one things Kathy wanted to say.

She wanted to tell her how much it had hurt to find out how much her daughter had been hiding from her. She wanted to ask why she didn't trust her enough to talk to her. She wanted to apologize for all the times she wasn't around for her. She wanted to cry for her child who had experienced the loss of her father for the second time in her life. She wanted to tell her just how much she herself was dying over the situation they had been thrown into.

But she remained silent and just hugged her. Kathleen didn't say anything either as she returned the gesture and they sat that way for several minutes.

When she finally let up, there were tears on her daughter's face and her own. Kathleen drew away to wipe her face and sniffled. Kathy looked at her tearfully, offering a small smile of understanding.

"Mom," she said hoarsely, swallowing and getting herself under control. "Are we going to be able to see Dad?"

The words themselves didn't come as a surprise. She had made certain to explain every detail of what was going on with Elliot with her children so that they would be prepared for the inevitable awkwardness to come. But the heaviness of the tone conveyed a deeper meaning, and as she stared at the intent gaze in her daughter's red-rimmed eyes, Kathy was startled into a realization that she had been ignoring for far too long,

Kathleen wasn't a child anymore.

She swallowed hard and fought back a new wave of tears, but was helpless to stop the watery sheen from being visible in her eyes.

"Baby," she choked painfully. She had to swallow a lump in her throat. "Your father loves you more than anything in the entire world."

Kathleen was startled again when her mother moved to grip both of her hands, and the sudden intensity of her gaze made her heart start to race.

"You know that, right?" She was almost pleading with her. "Kathleen…please tell me you know that."

She nodded quickly. "Yes," she said, puzzled. "Mom, of course I do. I would never think otherwise." Her tone indicated her disbelief at the mere suggestion.

Kathy took one hand away to wipe the tears that had escaped down her cheeks.

"He'll want to see you," she continued heavily. "He'll love to see you."

Her face twisted painfully as she raised her hand to rest on her daughter's cheek and her voice lowered to a whisper.

"But he needs some time right now. Give him some time to get comfortable first and then I promise…you guys can see him as often as you want."

She rubbed her hand gently over Kathleen's smooth cheek. "Can you do that?" she asked softly.

Her daughter's eyes were filled with tears again, but she nodded. Leaning forward, Kathy placed a slow kiss on her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, stroking her hair. She folded her into a hug again and didn't fight the sobs this time. "My precious baby…I love you so much."

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What should have been close to a four-hour drive from the hospital had already taken six and they weren't even to Interstate 380 yet.

Olivia had forced to stick to the slowest lane of traffic for the duration of the trip so that she could be ready to pull over at a moment's notice. They were barely making it forty miles at a time without him vomiting.

Much of the drive had been spent agonizing over whether or not to turn around back toward the hospital. He didn't have a fever, he was wrapped up tight, and his pulse, though a little rapid, was steady…she had checked every precaution she could possibly think of to make sure there was no emergency.

She knew she was taking a risk, but in the end she had decided to keep going towards home. She was making sure to keep the ride as smooth as possible for him in case it was due to carsickness, but deep down she had a feeling it wasn't. He was a nervous wreck and terrified and his body was just trying to make sense of it.

Being in the backseat had seemed more agreeable for him for a while, but she knew it was uncomfortable Stretching horizontally across the seats was impossible because he was too tall and so he had curled his legs awkwardly by the window in order to lay his head down flat. Combined with a rolling stomach and nausea, she couldn't bear the thought of how miserable he must have been and after having to stop twice more she had moved him back into the front with her.

She had reclined the seat a little and tried to make the seatbelt as loose as possible without compromising his safety. He had squirmed around trying to find a favorable position for almost five minutes before finally slumping against the side of the window near the seat belt hook. She wasn't exactly sure if he was sleeping, but his eyes were closed and he hadn't stirred in almost a half-hour.

Rather than chance disturbing the quiet, Olivia continued on in silence. The gentle hum of the car moving soon became the only sound she could hear and she began to feel tired herself. It was nearing dusk and would be dark by the time they reached New Jersey.

She blinked furiously and opened her eyes wide to keep herself awake, swiftly flipping on the headlights.

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The hand grabbing his arm out of nowhere from behind made him jump reflexively even as he abandoned the car keys dangling from the door he was getting ready to open. He whipped around to meet the assailant in a surprise move but made no move at all toward his gun.

They stood, toe to toe, defensively trying to stare the other one down without realizing the other was doing the same, for nearly a full minute.

Personally, he wouldn't have cared at all if the other set of eyes became sucked out of their sockets before he allowed himself to blink. He was in full force fuck-you-to-Tuesday mode.

His partner seemed to realize this because he backed off a step. Fin glowered at him and gave him no leeway, his stance every bit as defensive as it had been when he first heard John's voice behind him.

The older man held up his hands quickly.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me," he said. "You have every right and I don't blame you." His eyes were anxious, nearly darting from behind his glasses…Fin had never seen that before. "I just…" He trailed off and sighed in despair. "Can we talk?"

The silence echoed between them like a cannon shot. One minute turned into two.

Finally, his partner cocked an eyebrow slightly.

"No," he said shortly.

He was expecting the confrontation that was sure to result once he allowed his partner the opportunity. But Fin's reaction came as such a surprise that John was left speechless. His face was rock hard and his eyes were glinting with something that almost looked like…hatred.

Fin saw the surprise flash over John's face and it only disgusted him more. Staring at him coldly, he turned his back to him without a word and began opening his car door again.

"Fin…"

His desperation made him reckless and John reached for his arm again. He realized his mistake too late, finding himself slammed up against the side of his partner's car before he even had time to register what was happening.

"You think you can just waltz back around," Fin growled deeply, "say a few apologies, and make everything peachy again?" John could feel the hands holding him in place trembling with rage as the grip tightened. "You know how much pleasure I would get in busting your face open right now?"

John wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing that any words would only ignite him more. Fin continued glaring at him and trembling until he suddenly let up, nearly making him fall to the ground.

"That's the difference between us," he said, his voice nearly shaking now. "I know how to keep myself from sinking to that level just to give you your fucking satisfaction."

He turned away again before he could see the reaction to the crushing blow cross John's face because he had meant every word more than any he had ever said before.

"Look," John said, as he was nearly inside the car. It took a moment for his nerves to come together again so he could speak. "Fin, please let me explain…what happened in the lockup-"

"**I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED LOCKUP!"**

John had expected to be screamed at before but was unprepared now. He jumped violently and honestly, his face registering his shock.

The roar of his voice echoed across the dark parking lot.

Fin's teeth were clenched as he panted a few times trying to get himself calm, his hand nearly crushing the steering wheel he was sitting behind. He looked back up at his partner, standing just behind the open car door. He could feel the lightning in his own eyes as he brought out his anger and rage in a voice so calm it seemed deadly.

"That doesn't matter," he went on menacingly. "What matters is that when we were facing the most urgent case the unit has ever seen you were nowhere to be found. What matters is that while we were killing ourselves trying to find him you were locked in your apartment pouting."

His face was so tight he thought the muscles would dislocate.

"What matters is that one of the best men anyone has ever known has had his safety and security smashed and the people who he needs the most to help get it back haven't been delivering."

He felt emotion rise up and paused before he could speak again.

"What matters, John," he said, swallowing, "is that you're willing to be up all night for other victims… but the one who is arguably the most important one we've ever had hasn't even heard your voice yet."

John stared at him and tried to keep his tears from welling up as he remained silent.

He started the car abruptly and placed one hand on the door, yanking it hard enough that John was forced to step to the side.

"It's not the forgiveness you need to worry about getting back," Fin said solemnly.

He locked eyes with his partner for the first time and allowed him to feel the intensity of his words. "It's the respect."

The physical barrier separating the two as the door slammed shut was nothing compared to the emotional one that had slowly ripped him apart.

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Olivia gently helped him remove the last of the many layers he had been bundled in for the trip home. A small amused smile graced her face as she gathered them all to take to the hall closet. He looked about ready to fall out of the chair. She was betting he would be ready for sleep in a few minutes.

She had honestly expected to have to squeeze him into the wheelchair when they parked in front of her building. Slight borderline paranoia about making sure he was protected from the cold had enticed her to nearly mummify him as they were preparing to leave that morning.

Before they had stepped foot out of the hospital, he was wearing a sweatshirt, parka, knit ski cap, and wool gloves that Kathy had brought from his apartment along with a blanket wrapped around his neck and shoulders. By the time they had arrived back to Manhattan, her coat had been added to the ensemble as well.

Despite the situation, she couldn't deny how adorable and fragile being bundled up had made him look. He reminded her of an old man in a nursing home in a weird, affectionate way.

As she was coming back towards the couch where she had parked him, a stark white slip of paper hanging from her refrigerator caught her eye and sidetracked her curiosity enough to make a detour.

_Olivia,_

_Elliot's suitcase on your bed...pajamas, toothbrush, shaving supplies, and clothes to last a few days inside. Ensure on the top shelf of the refrigerator. Milk and orange juice should last for the week. Bacon and eggs in the top drawer, cold cuts and cheese in the bottom drawer, bread in the cabinet by the stove. I should be here at around 8 am tomorrow as long as Liz and Dickie can get a ride to school. _

_Kathy Stabler_

Bewildered, she pulled open the refrigerator door and was floored by what she saw.

Fresh jugs of milk and orange juice sat on the top shelf waiting to be opened with a large case of the protein drinks underneath. Both storage drawers were crammed full, just as Kathy had said.

She blinked back tears and swallowed as she closed the door, so touched that she had to stop to breathe.

Setting the note on the counter, she stepped back onto the carpet in time to see Elliot yawning hugely.

She looked at the clock in the entertainment center. It was just past nine…not late, but the trip home had been hell on him. He had a right to be exhausted.

Fuck…she suddenly realized that it had been almost eleven hours since he had been to the bathroom. Knowing him, he would let his eyeballs turn yellow before he admitted that to her right now.

Dread pitted in her stomach but she had no choice. They couldn't avoid it…the longer he held it, the more damage it would cause.

"Hey," she said gently, squatting down in front of him. His were closed. "Hey." She tenderly cupped his cheek, thumbing over the skin. "Elliot."

With great reluctance, his eyes came up to meet hers, swimming in fatigue.

"Why don't we get ready for bed?" she continued softly. "You want to?"

His eyes closed again and he had to struggle to open them back up. They were red and bloodshot, making her wince. She nodded encouragingly as if he had spoken because it was more than obvious that he needed to sleep.

"I'm going to go get your pajamas," she said lightly. She took a breath for courage before continuing. "Then we'll get you to the bathroom and you can sleep in my bed, how's that? It's a lot more comfortable than the couch."

The deep crimson that flushed his face killed any argument that he might have made about not needing to go, but he shook his head firmly anyway.

"No," he said with dread. "No…I don't need to."

She pursed her lips gently, feeling horrible about it because she knew he was beyond embarrassed. She made sure her voice was gentle.

"Sweetheart, you haven't been since we left this morning," she said. His eyes were pained and she stroked his face again. "I know you're embarrassed and I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm going to be as professional as I can. I promise." Her gaze was open and tender as she looked into his humiliated eyes.

His eyes were shining as he dropped his head in and grimaced in despair. Her hand traveled up to his forehead, gently combing through his hair. He sighed in defeat after a minute.

Leaning forward, she tenderly kissed his forehead and then stood up, coming around to grip the handles of the chair.

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She paused outside the door and knocked softly.

"Come in," a voice answered almost immediately.

Kathy opened the door slowly and stepped inside the room of her youngest child. She was sprawled out on her stomach in the bed, reading glasses on. A thick novel was in front of her.

She was looking up at her and smiling.

"Hi," she said brightly.

Not for the first time, Kathy thanked God for the love that was Elizabeth. Even when the world was threatening to cave, she always had a ray of sunshine to offer.

"I'm going to bed, sweetie," she said tiredly.

She crossed the room toward her, sighing wearily. Her daughter got up on her knees to hug her.

"Listen," she said, as she released her. She stroked her long braid wistfully. "Will you and your brother be alright finding a ride tomorrow? I want to get over to Olivia's first thing."

Elizabeth nodded, waving her hand insistently. "Yeah, yeah," she said quickly. "Hannah's mom already said she could drive us…it's no problem. Go be with Daddy, Mom…don't even think about it."

She swallowed hard, suddenly overcome with emotion again.

"I love you, Elizabeth," she said, hugging her hard again. "So much, baby." Tears dropped from her face into her daughter's hair and she swallowed. "You know that I'll do anything in the world for you, right?"

The pleading voice of her mother was confusing and unexpected.

"Of course, Mom," she answered softly, hugging her back harder. "I love you, too."

Kathy closed her eyes, sniffling, and kissed the top of her daughter's braid.

"Good night," she said quickly, making her way back out of the room.

Elizabeth stared after her as she closed the door again.

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Despite how anxious he was to talk to Olivia, Don forced himself to resist picking up the phone as he climbed into bed.

_They've been on the road all day and are probably tired. Don't bother them._

But he still could feel the bitter fear starting to climb up his throat.

_One of those animals is still out there somewhere._

His lungs were beginning to burn and he breathed through his nose.

_What if he followed them? What if he tries to go after them? _

He slid upright fast, his heart hammering, and snapped on the lamp next to his head. The cordless receiver was in his hand before he realized it.

Olivia's cell phone went straight to voicemail and he hung up without leaving a message. He dialed her home number and found it off the hook.

His hand was starting to tremble now. He dialed the only number he could think to call next while the voice in the back of his head screamed that he was totally overreacting.

After four rings, he heard a click.

"Hello?" a voice murmured softly.

"Kathy," he said. His face was heated as he looked at the clock. It was almost twelve and he prayed to God that he hadn't just woken her up. "It-it's Don Cragen."

"Hi," she said, and the grogginess in her voice made his face even hotter.

"I'm so sorry to bother you this late," he said, his tongue beginning to trip. "I-I was just wondering….um, have-have you had a chance to speak to Olivia lately? Her cell phone is turned off and I tried her house…" He swallowed. "I'm really sorry, I know it's late…but I just-"

"No, Don, don't worry," she cut in smoothly. Her voice sounded tired but compassionate. "As far as I know, everything's fine. I just talked to her a few minutes ago. They got home about two hours ago and she said they're getting ready to go to bed."

Relief washed over him as well as waves of self-disgust for his panic and he was glad she couldn't see his face.

"I would imagine she would want the cell phone off so that they can both get to sleep," she went on thoughtfully. "Maybe she took the other phone off the hook….?"

"I don't blame her," Cragen said ruefully, shaking his head. "Otherwise she gets crazy people like me calling and bothering her." He chuckled humorlessly. "Kathy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'll let you get back to sleep."

She laughed softly. "You're not crazy," she said warmly. "You just care about your detectives….I should be that lucky to have a boss who cares so much."

Still embarrassed, Don couldn't think properly to reply to her gracefully.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Goodnight."

She chuckled.

"Goodnight," she answered softly.

Cragen hung up the phone and turned off the lamp, hunkering down under the covers with another disgusted sigh.

But he was nowhere near thinking about sleeping.

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It took her a minute to comprehend that she wasn't in her bed and then another to remember why she had been sleeping on the floor of her bedroom. Blearily, she sat up and suddenly realized what had awakened her.

"Hey," she said anxiously, getting to her feet. His terrified wails intensified when she spoke and she winced sympathetically. "Hey, hey…"

She turned on the light and was momentarily blinded by the brightness. When she was able to see, her heart broke painfully at the state before her. He was slumped awkwardly against the headboard, sobbing hysterically. His pillow was nowhere in sight and the comforter was a tangled mess around his feet.

"Elliot," she murmured sadly, coming quickly to the side of the bed. She discovered his pillow on the ground with his stuffed rabbit in a heap beside it, looking lost and abandoned on the carpet. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Her eyes went automatically to the alarm clock as she was sitting down beside him and her body immediately protested at seeing she had barely been asleep two hours. Then she saw his puffy, exhausted face soaked with tears and felt so guilty that she had to catch her breath.

"Hey," she crooned sympathetically, reaching her arms toward him. He was gasping from crying so hard and inhaling noisily with each breath. He immediately cowered into the embrace she was offering and sobbed like his heart was broken. She felt her own eyes tear up as she wrapped her arms warmly around him and was startled to find out that he was shaking. "Oh, baby…what is it? What's the matter?"

Olivia stroked the back of his head and inhaled deeply as she pressed her face down against his. He didn't speak for several minutes, seeming too upset to even attempt words.

"Cold," he finally whimpered.

It took her a minute to decipher the word past the tears and the way his face was pressed hard against her chest. When she did, her immediate reaction was to furrow her brows in confusion, but she made sure her voice didn't give it away.

"You're cold?" she repeated tenderly, rubbing his back. He didn't reply past a wet sniffle and she pursed her lips sadly. She clucked her tongue sympathetically as she leaned down to kiss his head. "Aw…it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay."

She cradled his head for a minute, massaging around the base of his skull, and dropped her lips down warmly against his face as she pulled away. She groped for the comforter and had to turn in order to untangle it. She yanked it swiftly towards her and shook it gently.

"Here," she said lovingly, drawing it up close to her. He sniffled again and swallowed as she draped it over his shoulders. Her hands circled around his back again and began rubbing across the thick blanket. "All warm…we'll get you all warm."

He leaned against her silently and she could see the tears as they dropped onto the material. She hugged his bundled form against her and stroked his hair absently when he rested his head into the crook of her neck.

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Steam had fogged the bathroom mirror and Casey wiped it with one of her towels as she passed the sink. She loaded her arms with the rest of her things and then did a final sweep to be sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

She came back out into the room and dumped the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, mousse, and hairspray into her open suitcase. Blowing out a breath, she ran her hand through her hair and grimaced, finding it had not yet dried completely.

Standing still a moment, she mentally reviewed the things she had brought with her and checked the suitcase. After a minute, she snapped her fingers and went back to the empty closet, reaching up on her tiptoes for the scarf she had pushed on the top shelf earlier that week.

Going home gave her mixed emotions. She was thrilled to be leaving the hotel after almost three straight weeks, but anxious because she knew what would be waiting for her once she got there.

She had met with Judge Verella, in the presence of Dwight Haskins, shortly after requesting the trial continuance and told him of her intentions to return to Manhattan, explaining that the squad was as much part of this as Elliot was and that they needed to all be on the same page before any resolution could be planned.

He was leery of the idea from the start, and Haskins jumped at the opportunity, arguing that the change of venue verdict was well past finalized and that any efforts to reverse the decision would be a waste of time since she would lose anyway. Casey had kept her decorum in check magnificently, only responding by assuring both men that she wouldn't be pursuing efforts to move the trial back to Manhattan. Verella had considered both points carefully before warning her that she would be expected to work diligently toward moving forward with proceedings and that she was to keep in contact with both the defense office and the judge's chambers regularly.

The entire meeting had taken almost twenty-five minutes and had given her a migraine by the time she stepped out. She had started packing immediately, even though she wouldn't be leaving until the next morning, and placed calls to the precinct letting them know what was happening.

She snapped off the lamp, pocketed her keys, and lifted the suitcase off the bed to stand on its wheels.

Her mind was already racing and she had another five hours before she even set foot in the city. She was serious about her plans and had every intention of getting things in motion. When she went back to the office, Assistant District Attorney Novak was going to enforce a little damage control.

But the very first thing Casey was going to do when she reached Manhattan was pay her friend Elliot a visit.

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It was eleven minutes after eight when Kathy stepped up to the door of the apartment. She balanced the two steaming coffee cups in one hand and knocked with the other, trying to ward off the chill from the frigid morning that not yet exited her body.

When no response came after a few moments, a small twinge of anxiety fluttered in her stomach. She remembered Don Cragen's concern the previous night and bit her lip as she knocked again.

Relief swirled in her chest when almost immediately after her knock she heard chains and locks being disengaged from the other side. The door was pulled open to allow her entry and Olivia appeared from behind it.

"Hey," she said. "Come on in."

The unnatural lowness of her voice sent alarm bells off immediately in Kathy's brain as she stepped inside. Olivia shut the door behind her and when she faced her again, the other woman was startled to see how tired she looked.

"I brought you coffee," she said after a minute, holding it out.

Olivia looked relieved and grateful as she took the cup from her. She smiled and began rummaging around in her pocket. She frowned in frustration when she didn't find what she was looking for, then after a minute emerged triumphant with the object in her fingers.

"Here's your key back," she went on, holding it out as well.

The brunette swallowed a generous mouthful of the liquid. "Thanks," she said, taking another sip almost immediately. She gestured toward the kitchen. "And thanks, by the way, for all you bought…I'm going to pay you back."

Kathy shook her head firmly. "You certainly won't," she retorted, cocking an eyebrow slightly. After a minute, a small smile played on her lips. "And you're welcome…it was my pleasure."

Olivia smiled, but it was obvious that the motion was being forced. They stood awkwardly in silence for another minute before Kathy cleared her throat.

"Where's Elliot?" she asked.

The look of despair that crossed Olivia's face made her stomach clench.

She turned toward the kitchen and gestured for Kathy to follow. They walked through to the living room.

Olivia sighed softly as she crossed back over to the couch, but Kathy was momentarily frozen in shock and horror.

Elliot was at the far end of the sofa and stretched out clear to the other side. He was halfway sitting up, supported by several pillows behind his back and neck.

Blankets swaddled his entire upper body almost up to his face. Tears streamed steadily down both of his cheeks, but aside from regular sniffles he was silent. The stark redness of his eyes combined with the puffiness in his face made him almost unrecognizable.

As the tears rushed to her eyes, Kathy noticed belatedly that his arm was strewn over the blankets and clutching a pillow tightly against his chest like a life preserver.

She looked closer and then the tears were cascading down her own cheeks to blur her vision.

It wasn't a pillow at all.

Long, furry brown ears were spilling out from under his arm.


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Melinda eased the car to a stop next to the curb and shifted into park. Children streamed between her bumper and the car in front of hers, coming from the buses as they pulled up the circular ramp.

She crossed in front of the car and around to the passenger side while Kayla was busy trying to slip her glittery purple book bag on over her puffy coat. The white faux fur lining the hood was caught up in the straps, preventing her from lifting it over her arms, and Melinda chuckled at her daughter's increasing frustration as she struggled to lift it anyway.

"Come here, you nut," she said, turning her around by the shoulders. She lifted the hood away from the bag and slid it up onto her daughter's shoulders. "Get your lunch."

Kayla ducked back inside the running car to retrieve the Aladdin cloth lunch sack and zoomed up onto the curb again. Melinda hugged all puffy coat-clad, too-big book bag, three and a half feet of her child lovingly, smiling. After a minute she let go and dropped her head down.

"Kiss," she instructed.

Kayla leaned up to mash her lips across her mother's and Melinda squeezed her again.

"Go on," she said, tugging one braid affectionately. "I love you."

"Love you too," her daughter said.

Kayla turned and ran towards the doors of the building. She stepped down off of the curb to shut the passenger door and watched her small daughter until she become swallowed in the mass of children clambering inside the elementary school.

Rubbing her bare hands together quickly, she hurried around and back inside the car. She turned the heat up more and blew out a chattering breath as she shifted the car into drive to begin fighting her way through the morning school traffic.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She tenderly worked her hands through his hair, rubbing the shampoo through thoroughly. She lingered for a while, hoping that the massaging touch would bring him pleasure and comfort, and moved down to stroke his neck.

It obviously didn't. His back quivered violently from where he had his face buried into her shoulder.

"We're almost done, sweetheart," Kathy murmured tearfully. She brought the shower head over his hair, smoothing into his scalp to rinse out the suds and shielding the side of his face so that the soap couldn't slip into his eyes. "Almost done."

After another minute, she turned the spray away from them and dropped the shower head against the side of the tub. The moment her hands were free, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself into him. Her clothes, amazingly still dry throughout, quickly became wet and she didn't care.

"Okay," she soothed, nearly breathless from emotion. "That's it, Elliot. You're done, honey."

He shook his head against her and whimpered. "No," he whimpered pleadingly. His tone became nearly wailing and she felt him shudder. "Do it again, please do it again."

Her restraint broke then. Kathy laid her head against his back and cried.

This was the third round of washing his body and shampooing his hair. She had used up almost three-quarters of the shampoo, and irritation from the loofah she was using was making his chest start to turn red but he had begged her to repeat it and she hadn't been able to bear saying no.

After a minute, she swallowed and lifted herself up again. Holding on to his waist firmly so that he wouldn't slip off of the edge of the tub, she looked into his eyes and shook her head.

"Elliot," she said, her voice breaking. His face twisted in panic and began crumbling. She cupped his cheeks in her hands desperately as tears began coming out of both sets of eyes. "Baby, we've done it three times already."

He shook his head desperately.

"Please, Kath," he whimpered. His voice was small and fragile as his eyes became even more frightened. He shook his head again. "No…please, it's still on me. I can feel it. It's all over me."

She stroked his cheeks, seeing tears dangerously close to spilling out of his eyes again.

"No," she said tearfully. She shook her head. "No, angel...there's nothing on you. I promise. It's gone…Elliot, it's all gone. I promise."

His eyes spilled over instantly and he looked at her like she had just betrayed him. Knives pierced her heart.

"Look, baby," she said desperately. She turned her body so that he could see and then gestured beside where her feet were braced on the bathmat in pools of soap. "We washed it all off. It's gone."

"No," he whimpered again. "No, it's not. It's not."

His voice broke and he couldn't speak again before the sobs took over. Helpless and defeated, Elliot didn't resist when Kathy pulled him to her and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She moved over to sit on the edge as well so that she could hold him while he sobbed.

After about five minutes, he swallowed and exhaled shakily, moving his face slightly so that he could wipe his eyes on the edge of her shoulder. Almost as soon as he did, his face vanished again and he shook his head.

"It hurts," he whimpered, sobbing again. "Kathy...it hurts."

His shoulders rippled with emotion. The words combined with the broken voice made tears roll down her face again.

"I know," she whispered, stroking the back of his head. She bit her lip. "Olivia has your medicine…as soon as we're done you'll get something to take the pain away. I promise."

In actuality, the two of them had quietly arranged for Olivia to go to the drugstore get his prescriptions filled while Kathy helped him take a shower. She didn't dare mention this, for fear of how he would react knowing his partner wasn't there, and prayed fervently that she would be back before they came out.

She remained where she was until he seemed calm enough for her to move. Extracting herself carefully, she cupped his face and fought the urge to kiss him. He was visibly shivering.

"Come on," she said gently. "Why don't we get you dried off?"

Her hand was reaching outside of the tub as she spoke for the towel sitting on the lid of the toilet. She stood up and brought the fluffy blue cotton around in front of her. He watched her miserably as she wrapped it around his shoulders and hung his head.

Pursing her lips, Kathy rubbed his shoulders and embraced him again.

Ten minutes later, she wheeled him out of the bathroom. His hair was damp and he wore clean sweatpants and his favorite NYPD sweatshirt.

As she took him through the kitchen, Kathy saw Olivia's keys on the counter and breathed a sigh of relief. They got to the living room to see her on the couch with an unopened book resting in her lap. She looked up quickly at their approach and hurried to her feet.

She smiled lovingly as they came near.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" she asked, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Kathy saw the shadows of pain on her face when she saw his red eyes and exhausted appearance. She smiled painfully when Olivia's eyes shot up towards hers worriedly, telling her all she needed to know about the ordeal it had been for both of them.

She wheeled him over to the couch and Olivia quickly came around the other side of the chair to help get him out. He whimpered as they lifted him slightly and tugged him gently down onto the cushions, Olivia arranging the pillows quickly to support him as he settled.

"Can we get him something for the pain?" Kathy asked softly.

Her eyes were on Elliot even as she spoke to the other woman and she smoothed a loving hand over his face. Olivia swallowed chokingly, feeling her stomach clench, but kept her voice level.

"Sure," she said. She swallowed again and willed Kathy to glance at her. When she didn't, Olivia desperately searched her mind for a way to get her attention without alerting Elliot. She bit her lip. "Um…" She swallowed, stammering slightly. "It's…it's in the kitchen….can-can you come help me for a second?"

Her desperation finally caught the blonde's attention. Kathy looked up at her in confusion and she gestured anxiously with her head for her to come with her. Locking eyes with her, Kathy nodded understanding.

"Sure," she said softly. She glanced down at Elliot again and Olivia did the same, her face twisting. She tenderly stroked his face again and he sighed, the sound a mixture of tears and sleepiness. "We'll be right back."

She followed the detective into the kitchen and far enough away so that their voices wouldn't carry. Olivia looked at her painfully, twisting her finger nervously.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

The detective sighed shakily and bit her lip, her eyes darting everywhere but in front of her.

"Kathy, I'm sorry," she burst out anxiously. She shook her head nervously. "I shouldn't have…I-I wanted…"

The increasing frustration and anxiety threw Kathy for a loop as she tried to understand what had happened. Her face twisted in confusion.

"Olivia," she said in concern when the other woman still couldn't make sense. "What-"

"I didn't go to the store," Olivia blurted out quickly. She looked so guilty and upset that Kathy winced sympathetically. "Kathy…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I…"

She shook her head quickly to indicate that she wasn't upset and gripped Olivia's arm gently, eyebrows arched in concern. Olivia swallowed chokingly, her eyes wobbling with tears.

"I couldn't…" Olivia's lips pursed nervously as she breathed. "All I could think about…if someone tried to…" Her voice was shaking now, sounding small and totally out of character. "I couldn't leave him…I'm so scared to take my eyes off him."

Her voice broke then and tears slipped slowly down her cheeks. Kathy's face twisted and she moved her other hand up to her shoulder, gently rubbing. Olivia swallowed painfully, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid," she whispered. "I'm so afraid that he's going to disappear again."

Kathy was shocked and heartbroken. She'd known that his partner was taking this as hard as she was, but she'd never known just how much. Sadness overwhelmed her.

"Oh, God," she murmured. "Olivia…"

The other woman shook her head, ashamed, and her body language gave away her discomfort. Kathy moved forward and gently embraced her, feeling her tense in surprise before slowly loosening. It took a minute, but Olivia eventually returned the hug before she let go.

"Olivia, I'm sorry," she said, still horrified. She winced and shook her head, taking her hand anxiously. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea…" Olivia shrugged it off, obviously embarrassed, but her eyes were haunted and pained. She squeezed her hand again.

The other woman blew through her cheeks, still embarrassed and she looked at her warmly. "I'll go get the pills…it's okay. You stay here and I'll go get the pills."

"No," Olivia said quickly, shaking her head. She sniffled rapidly, her cheeks red. "Kathy, no…I feel so horrible, now he needs them and I wouldn't-" She sighed angrily, shaking her head again and fumbling for her keys. "I'll get them. It'll only take a minute; the drugstore is right down the block."

"Olivia," she said firmly, stopping her with a hand on her wrist. The other woman looked at her brokenly and she smiled lightly, emphasizing her words. "I'll get them." She nodded her head in resolution. "Stay here. I'll get them."

The detective lowered her eyes and brought them back up after a minute.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I know you have to go to work…"

Kathy shook her head, already pulling out her own set of keys. "I'll need to leave in an hour." Her voice was firm. "I'll be gone maybe ten minutes."

Olivia shook her head, but couldn't stop the sigh of relief as she took the slips of paper from her purse by the table.

"Thank you," she said softly, handing them over to Kathy.

The blonde smiled genuinely and squeezed her bicep gently before moving to get her coat.

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The phone rang almost the moment he picked the report back up and began reading. Huffing, Don picked it up without taking his eyes away from the page.

"Yeah," he said gruffly

"Get me Captain Cragen," a voice said, sounding irritated.

The bristled tone and clipped demand sent his guard up at once. "Speaking," he said tersely into the receiver, his voice cold. "Who is this?"

"Dan Loveless, Homicide," the man said, not sounding the least bit put off. "We've got a stiff with no panties and a torn bra…38th and 7th, beside Dale's Auto Body."

Cragen clenched his teeth. "Gonna have to sit on it a while," he said. "I've already got four teams out…we'll get there as soon as we can."

"We don't baby-sit sex crimes," the officer replied rudely. "You don't want it, talk to my captain. Someone needs to get down here now because we've got another case."

He hung up before Don could say anything else. Swearing, he replaced the receiver and looked out into the squad room. Only two desks were occupied and the three detectives there were eating lunch. Shaking his head, he opened the door and strode out.

His eyes traveled over the detectives. Fin noticed him and eyed him hesitantly, raising his eyebrows. The captain met his eyes and shook his head regretfully before addressing the other two.

"Phillips, Landers," he called to them. Both looked at him immediately. "I need you to go down to 38th and 7th...Homicide called in what looks like a rape."

The partners nodded and went to get their coats. Fin looked at them and then Cragen angrily.

The captain only shook his head apologetically and pursed his lips in defeat before going back inside the office.

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The air was freezing but she was entirely comfortable as she strolled along the sidewalk in her ski coat, scarf, and gloves. Her last class for the day was over and Maureen was in no hurry as she walked back toward her dorm.

Digging in her purse as she walked, she pulled out her cell phone and switched it on. She'd had it off for the day because of classes and, as expected, a new message was waiting for her. She smiled and lifted the phone to her ear, knowing Rachel's last class was ending now and she would want to meet up.

Except it wasn't her friend's voice that greeted her. She was so surprised to hear her little sister's voice that she actually stopped walking. All of her siblings knew her cell number, but they talked to each other so rarely when she wasn't home that Elizabeth was the absolute last person she would have ever expected to call her while she was at school.

The words were a surprise, but Maureen found herself smiling widely for the first time in a long time.

_I love you, Liz._

She quickly scrolled through her contact list to get to the house number and pressed send.

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Olivia stepped out of the bathtub and quickly dried off. She was sure she had to have just broken a record….she didn't think she'd ever taken a shower so fast before.

She hurriedly dressed and opened the door. Stepping through the kitchen, she stopped in the entrance to the living room and breathed a sigh of relief.

He was still fast asleep on the couch, looking to not have moved at all.

Elliot had conked out that morning after being given a dose of Vicoden and hadn't moved since. Kathy had left a little while after getting his medicine and had said she would come by again before going home for the night.

Despite how much she craved it, Olivia had put off taking a shower until it was almost evening. Even though he was fast asleep and hadn't budged, she had sat beside him all afternoon and hadn't moved.

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The key was slowly inserted and the locks disengaged. After a minute, the door slowly began creaking its way open.

One eye hesitantly peeped inside.

After a minute, the other followed.

She stepped timidly through the foyer and took a deep breath, bracing herself.

Then she inhaled.

_Thank you, God._

Casey closed her eyes in relief and inhaled again.

She was finally back in her own home and the mustiness she had been dreading was non-existent.

"Thank God for Glade Plug-Ins," she said aloud, shaking her head.

Setting her bag down by the door, she walked over to the window and opened the shutters, inhaling the sweet lavender scent from the outlet underneath eagerly.

The next ten minutes were spent opening the shutters in her bedroom and bathroom. Despite the freezing temperature, she also cracked them in order to air the place out.

But the serenity of the moment was brutally shattered when she went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"_Holy_-"

Gagging, Casey snapped her head to the side to breathe in fresh air. She inhaled a few gulps and then held her breath in order to peer inside again.

"God," she groaned as the putrid odor invaded her sinuses again.

Grimacing, she began moving aside bottles of juice and soda, looking for the source of the pungent smell. She'd had the sense to use up the rest of the milk before leaving for Buffalo and she'd thought that she had gotten rid of all the lunch meat and cheese to avoid spoiling.

_Fuck._

Pushed up against the back of the shelf behind a can of Red Bull that she had forgotten was back there was an open Tupperware container of hamburger meat covered with Saran-Wrap. She vaguely remembered making herself tacos a few weeks before Christmas because it was something easy and she was exhausted from a long day of court.

Wrinkling her nose, Casey pulled it out and inspected it. The corner flaps of plastic wrap were loosely opened, explaining the exposure, and the meat inside was slightly green at the edges.

In her entire life, she had never seen green hamburger meat.

"That," she said in disgust, bringing the container to the side with three fingers, "is nasty."

She paused in front of the open trashcan, debating on whether or not the container could be saved. After a minute, she scoffed and tossed the Tupperware with a loud clang.

Screw that…she'd buy another one.

Shaking her head, she went to the cabinet and pulled out the peanut butter and some Saltine crackers. She'd have to go to the grocery store first thing tomorrow.

Her eye caught the clock as she went to the drawer to get a knife. It was a little after six.

Something inside of her began pulling her to call Olivia, but at the same time something was making her afraid and she didn't know what it was.

After a minute, she bit her lip and walked back toward the table, passing the phone without stopping.

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She reached beside her for the clock radio. Light blue buttons glowed in the dark bedroom.

Soft jazz music began floating out.

Crossing the carpet, Olivia turned off the rest of the lights so that the soft illumination from the radio provided a comfortable glow over the room. She then went back to the bed and sat down.

Elliot reached for her immediately and she opened her arms to allow him to lean against her. He sighed and rested his face in her neck. She rubbed up and down his back as she pulled the comforter over his shoulders again.

"Did you lock the door?" he whispered shakily. He swallowed hard, his body tense. "What about the windows? Did you lock the windows, Olivia?"

She could feel the tears climbing up her chest and stubbornly pushed them away.

She stroked his hair tenderly and kissed his face.

"Yes, baby," she said softly. She brought her face down against his. "Everything's locked. We're safe, Elliot." She nodded, framing his face with her hands. "I promise."

He breathed rapidly, his expression afraid.

"Where's your gun?" he went on, his voice slowly becoming shriller. "Do you have it? Get your gun, please get your gun."

Tears began to drop down onto her neck as his face began to quiver. Olivia closed her eyes painfully and hugged him tighter.

"Elliot," she said carefully. "Sweetheart, no one is going to come in here. I'm right here. No one can hurt you with me here."

He sobbed against her neck exhaustedly.

"Yes, they will," he whimpered, shaking his head. "They will."

Tears began slowly rolling down her cheeks as she began stroking his hair. Her voice was soft as she soothingly assured him in the midst of his cries, over and over again.

The clock flipped from 12:05 am to 12:06.

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"Dispatch to Central."

Suffolk County patrolman J.P Klein took one hand off of the wheel of the unmarked Crown Victoria and reached for the radio.

"SC-11," he identified himself. "Go ahead, Central."

"Shots fired, 1400 West Avenue," the male dispatcher reported. "Possible B and E…no uniforms confirmed as of yet. 11, respond?"

_Of course not, _Klein though darkly. _It's 2 in the morning…only rookies get the graveyard shifts._

"Confirm that B and E, Dispatch," he said, punching his vehicle identification into the GPS so that the control station could track his movements. "SC-11 responding."

He flipped on the siren as he increased his speed, flying through dark streets. When he reached his destination, about ten minutes later, he discovered that word had spread. Two other cars were parked with lights flashing.

A small crowd had gathered beside the convenience store. Approaching them, the first thing he noticed was a large portion of the glass window shattered. As the voices became louder, he saw two uniforms he didn't recognize holding a handcuffed man between them.

"Klein, Suffolk County," he said by way of approach, flashing his badge. He looked at the store again. "What's going on here?"

The taller patrolman nodded towards him. "Freddy Moore, Nassau County," he said. He gestured toward the other patrolman with his head. "Ed Harris."

Klein nodded again.

"We were over near 800 and heard the call from Central," Moore continued. "Figured we'd kill some time." He smirked as if he had said a joke and was disappointed when Klein didn't respond.

"So who's the Casanova?" Klein said sarcastically, turning his gaze to the man in handcuffs.

Young, tall, and wearing a black fleece coat, the man in question said nothing. He was staring at the sidewalk. Klein looked at him in disdain.

"He hasn't said anything." Harris spoke up this time. "Found a brick inside, most likely what he used to break the glass." The officer shook his head in what almost seemed like amusement. "Not very bright, obviously…the security camera is right next to the window that he smashed."

"He's also over the legal limit of intoxication," Moore piped up. "Found an empty six pack and two Budweiser cans on the street over there." He pointed.

"Ah, looking for a fix?" Klein said sarcastically. He looked at the other two officers. "You search him?"

"No weapons," Harris said. "But…"

He took something out of his pocket and held it out. Looking at it, Klein saw it was a photo identification card.

The officer's face was stony. "We might be looking at a bigger problem that attempted robbery."

Klein examined the card in astonishment, looking up at the other men.

It was a state-issued police photo ID belonging to a cop named Elliot Stabler.


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Notes: My apologies (again)…I was going to have this done last night, but I was, um…_sidetracked_ by the NBC live blog with Christopher Meloni after the show. **

**I am starting to fear for my sanity….it can't be normal to have such a powerful obsession like this. Really, the man is old enough to be my father. **

**But that voice….those eyes…those jeans. Those _jeans_….besides the fact that he is so witty and awesome to hear. I'm sorry….I love that man and I'm not ashamed.**

**While you're here…can you please review? Please? What's wrong, are we getting bored already? **

Saturday morning was sunny and cold. He watched detectives trickle in with red ears and faces, blowing on their hands…most of them men who thought wearing protective covering was an insult to their masculinity.

He knew better. It might not look all that macho, but he sure as hell would take a goofy hat over a freezing bald head any day.

Of course, if God had been kind to him…he would have hair to cover it and wouldn't need the hat.

Don smiled ruefully and shook his head, turning his attention to his computer. It was almost ten and he had plenty of work to do…it was never a good sign when his thoughts began wandering before he even started the day.

He soon became engrossed in a particular file sent to him by the captain of Bronx SVU and forgot about the others outside.

Someone knocked on his door as he was about three-quarters of the way through the document. He huffed in annoyance and waved his hand for whoever it was to come inside without taking his eyes off of the line he was on.

The door hesitantly opened and a detective named Roberts poked his head inside.

"What's up?" Don asked, still reading.

"Cap, got a minute?" the detective asked, his body still in the doorway. "There are some people here asking to speak to you."

His voice didn't give away his amusement and the good-natured twinkle in his eyes went unnoticed by the captain, still looking intently at the computer screen. When Cragen grunted his acknowledgment without speaking, he turned his head out again.

"Go on," he said, smiling.

Don saw Roberts disappear from the doorway in his peripheral vision and the door remain open, but no one came inside. After a few moments, he turned his head and did a double take.

Maureen and Elizabeth Stabler were standing in the doorway with Kathleen and Dickie a step behind them.

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Olivia couldn't stop the delighted smile from taking over her entire face as she watched him swallow the last gulps of water to drain the glass. He sighed softly and leaned back again while she took the glass from him.

"Want some more?" she asked softly, barely able to contain her excitement.

He shook his head silently and sighed again, his head rolling slightly to face the side of the couch. His face screwed up slightly, but the expression vanished so quickly that she wondered if she had really seen it. Slightly puzzled, she turned to put the glass on the coffee table.

"When is Kathy coming back?"

The soft words were the first ones he had spoken all morning. Turning back toward him, Olivia saw that he was still facing away from her.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I haven't talked to her yet this morning."

This time, his grimace was easy to recognize. She saw it wash over his entire face and it startled her.

"Feel okay?" she asked, concerned.

Elliot turned his face even further away. Her eyebrows furrowed deeper when his face screwed up a third time and then she heard a low moan, making her heart race. She leaned closer to him.

"Hey," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

The tears in his voice gave him away and she could feel him starting to tremble. Olivia rested her hand on his back worriedly. He wiggled uncomfortably and suddenly she realized. Her eyes slammed closed and she berated herself harshly for her ignorance.

_God damn it, how could you be so irresponsible?_

She kept her voice gentle and rubbed his back reassuringly, careful not to disturb his wounds. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" she asked nonchalantly.

He tensed beneath her hand and she felt him holding his breath.

"Wait until she gets here," he finally said, his voice nearly a whisper.

The humiliation was painfully clear. He tried to hide it when he wiggled again, but it was obviously involuntary and he hid his face even further away from her. Olivia felt terrible for him.

"Sweetie," she said gently, biting her lip and wishing for a way to make him feel at ease. She kept her hand firmly on his back even when she felt him withdrawing. "She might not be here for a while." She tenderly moved up to stroke the back of his neck and struggled to eject reassurance. "Elliot, I'll help you."

He shook his head into the cushion.

"No," he said tearfully. "No, please, Olivia…just Kathy."

His pleading tone broke her heart. She didn't blame him for wanting something so private and humiliating done only by the person he had been married to for half his life. But as much as it hurt her, Olivia knew there was no way this time.

"Elliot," she murmured painfully. "If you wait, it's going to hurt you."

He didn't make any noise, but she could tell when he started to cry and it made her throat close.

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She was surprised when she walked into the kitchen for her morning coffee and discovered the note on the counter saying that Kathleen and the twins were meeting Maureen.

Suspicion immediately took over.

_All of my children…all four of my children…getting up on a Saturday morning to go hang out together. _

_**Willingly** hang out together._

_Dickie, Kathleen, Maureen, and Liz._

She studied the paper in her hand with a raised eyebrow.

_Yeah, right._

Either her children obviously think she fell off the turnip truck yesterday….or they were up to something that they didn't want her to know about.

Ten to one odds about which one she believed.

Shrugging absently, Kathy laid the note back down and looked at the clock. It was ten to nine.

This could actually work in her favor.

Instead of making breakfast for three teenagers, she could have time to relax in the shower before she called Olivia. Biting her lip in anticipation, she finished her coffee with a satisfying gulp.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Taking her keys from her pocket, Casey unlocked her office door and stepped inside. Another wave of relief similar to the one she had felt stepping into her home for the first time came over her and she couldn't help but smile.

She crossed the room to pull up the blinds beside the bookcase and turned toward the small table next to window to check on her plants. Amazingly, they appeared still green and thriving. The roots looked to have gotten plenty of water and she saw three blossoms on one of them that hadn't been there when she left.

"Hmm," she said aloud, gently fingering the flower. "Someone's been here."

She knew at least one person who it most definitely _wasn't_…her boss was so hesitant about getting into someone else's privacy that he probably wouldn't come in here without her permission if it were on fire.

Shrugging, she went over to her desk and turned on the computer out of habit more than necessity. She checked the clock. It was almost ten…Branch should be arriving in his office soon.

She hoped so. The sooner she got finished briefing him about her plans, the sooner she could get down to the squad.

The sooner she finished with the squad, the sooner she could go see Elliot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When he felt the tears creep up his eyes, Don had to do some fast blinking and pretend to look down at a file so that the four of them wouldn't see.

They were all silent, looking at him worriedly. Elizabeth especially looked concerned, as it had been her idea to come in the first place.

"You guys," he said, after getting himself controlled. He looked back up and smiled widely. He found he had to shake his head before he could continue speaking. "I think that is the best idea I've ever heard."

Elizabeth's face melted in relief as she looked around at her siblings. Kathleen and Maureen both smiled as well. Dickie looked torn between breaking into tears and bursting into laughter.

"So will you help?" Kathleen asked hesitantly.

Don's eyes sparkled with laughter and excitement.

"I'll do better than that," he said warmly. He stood up with a smile. "I'll set it up for you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She couldn't stop the feeling of annoyance that surged through her when she tried her boss' office again after lunch and was informed that he was still in a meeting with the State Attorney General.

Was it an emergency? the secretary wanted to know.

_No, not at all. It's just the rape of a decorated police officer who happens to be one of my close friends._

No, there was no emergency, Casey assured.

Would she care to leave a message?

_Oh, of course._

"_Would you mind having him call me back? I need to speak to him about making sure he knows my plans to have the Special Victims Unit get their heads out of their asses so that we can move forward with my case. Thanks."_

No, thank you, there was no message at this time. Yes, she would be happy to try back later.

She hung up the phone feeling like she wanted to throw something.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kathy bit her lip and looked at the clock above Olivia's stove. Elliot had slept for the entire duration of her time there and had still not awakened.

"If you have things you need to do, don't feel like you have to stay." Olivia's voice startled her from behind as the other woman came in from the living room. Brown eyes looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry he hasn't woken up."

Quickly masking her disappointment, the blonde waved her hand insistently and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it," she said firmly. "He needs the rest." She continued nodding and hoped she was convincing. "Look, um…maybe I should be getting home." She glanced at the clock again. "My kids have been alone all day…"

Her voice was pained and hesitant as she looked to Olivia again. The detective's face drew up sympathetically.

"Go," she said, nodding. "It's fine…I'll be fine."

Kathy looked uncertain. "Do you need me to get you anything?" she asked.

Olivia shook her head reassuringly. "No," she said. "Really, I'm fine. He probably won't wake up until late anyway." She tried to keep the dread from her voice and hoped she was doing a good job. "Go home." She smiled. "Tell the kids I said hello."

She nodded in defeat and stood.

"Um…." Her eyes darted to the floor and back nervously. "Tell…tell Elliot I came by?"

"Of course," Olivia said immediately. "Kathy, of course I'll tell him."

She felt horrible for her. Kathy really looked upset that she was leaving.

"Come back tomorrow morning," she continued, trying to sound upbeat. "I'll make pancakes." It wasn't until the words left her mouth that she remembered what day it was and she grimaced guiltily. "Oh….I, um-I…" She felt her face reddening. "Sorry…I mean after you get home from church…we can have brunch."

Kathy smiled reassuringly, seeing her discomfort.

"It's okay," she said. She shook her head ruefully in amusement. "I haven't been going to church nearly like I should."

The surprise flashed on her face before Olivia could stop it but she quickly wiped it away.

_I wonder if Elliot knows that._

"Oh," she stammered again, shrugging. "Well….if you're not here in the morning, I'll wait for you."

The blonde nodded.

"Thank you, Olivia."

Her voice had suddenly become so serious that it startled her and Olivia could have sworn she saw tears in her eyes.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fin walked back into the squad room and almost stopped in his tracks as he gaped at the sight in front of him.

"What-?" he began in disbelief.

"Fin." Cragen cut him off from across the room and gestured him over. Staring warily at the crowd of detectives at the front of the room, he complied.

"Captain, what the hell-?"

He was cut off again as Cragen began explaining. After a minute, a wide smile crossed his face and he chuckled in amusement.

The ringing phone was heard through the open office door and Don turned toward it.

"Guard the door," he said firmly, his eyes twinkling. "Make sure everyone coming in knows."

Chuckling again, Fin nodded and made his way back across the squad room. Cragen turned back quickly and shut his office door as he hurried toward the phone.

"Cragen," he answered.

"Yes, sir," a voice said a little nervously. "Captain Cragen?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Sir, my name is Officer Klein," the man began. "I'm with the Suffolk County Police Department. I'm sorry to bother you, sir."

He shook his head dismissively on instinct even though he knew it was a ridiculous gesture. "No, go ahead," he said briskly.

"I was told I needed to contact a detective in your squad," Klein continued. He paused a minute, apparently checking. "Uh….Detective…Stabler?"

Don felt his heart come crashing into his throat. He actually had to pause for a breath before he could force his brain to respond and his reaction was more instinctive than anything.

"Who'd you say you were with?" he asked, his voice suddenly hard.

Startled by the sudden hostility, the officer on the other end began to stammer nervously.

"Um…Suf-Suffolk County, sir," he said.

"And what business do you have with Detective Stabler?" Don continued menacingly.

Klein swallowed. "I-nothing, sir," he said quickly. "I-my boss just told me to get in touch with him and gave me this number….we just wanted to make sure his ID was returned in case he had reported it missing."

The nervous quiver in the officer's voice made Cragen feel guilty. The voice was obviously very young. Was it possible that there were some officers not aware of what had happened?

A minute later, the words registered and he furrowed his brow.

"ID?" he repeated.

"Yes, sir," the officer said quickly. "A man we arrested last night for breaking and entering had it in his pocket."

The neurons connected.

_Mother of…_

"What's his name?" Cragen asked.

"We don't know, sir," Klein answered. "We haven't been able to get anything out of him. He wouldn't tell us where he got the ID, either."

His heart began to race double time.

"Do you have him in custody?" he continued, standing up.

_Please…please…_

"Yes, sir," the officer said. "He's in the general lock-up until morning."

"Listen to me, son," Cragen said anxiously. He paused. "What's your name again?"

"Klein," he answered, sounding nervous again. "Jerome Klein, sir."

"Listen to me, Officer Klein." His fingers trembled on the receiver and he had to swallow his anxious breaths. "This is very important…I need you to get in touch with your commanding officer and tell him that Captain Donald Cragen of Manhattan Special Victims Unit will be there within the hour. Your man may be connected to an active case and it's important that we speak to him." He swallowed. "Make sure that no one, under _any circumstances_, lets the suspect out of sight until I arrive."

He listened to the stunned silence on the other end and gave the officer a moment, knowing that he was trying to process what had occurred.

"Officer Klein?" he said after a minute of no response.

"Yes-yes, sir," Klein said quickly. "I will, sir."

"Thank you," Don said briskly, and dropped the phone fast.

He strode out into the squad room, grabbing his coat on the way, and scanned with his eyes.

"Fin," he called out, getting the black man's attention. "Come with me."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She was so engrossed in the document spread open on her lap that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching. When his arms snaked around her from behind, she jumped violently and whipped her head around fast.

"Jumpy," Mike murmured, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. He planted soft kisses into her smooth flesh. "Mmmm." His deep voice was muffled by her hair in his face. "Kayla's asleep. I got some more of that oil that you like...want to go to bed, too, Mrs. Warner?"

His teasing, enticing voice paired with the feather-light kisses now being trailed near the side of her jaw had never failed in making her weak in the knees. After nine years of marriage, Melinda still couldn't resist him.

So he was puzzled when he felt her remain tense. She appeared to not even be listening to him.

"Mel?" he asked.

Reluctantly, he stepped back and stepped beside where she sat cross-legged on the La-Z Boy. Once he could see her profile, he was immediately concerned. She was staring intently at the thick file with her face drawn tight.

Furrowing his brow, Mike glanced down at the page she was so deeply entranced with.

**Examination Number: **1094

**Name of SANE: **Melinda J. Warner

**Patient Information:**

**Name- **Elliot Stabler

**Gender- **male

**Race/ Nationality-** White/Caucasian

**Hep B Screen: **Negative

**Spermacide: **Negative

**Seminal/Vaginal Fluids: **Present/Negative

**Vaginal/Penal/ Anal Tearing:** Negative/Present/Present

**Vaginal/Penal/Anal Penetration: **Negative/Present/ Present

**Notes/Comments:**

Sodomized several times with foreign object. Mutilation present along genitalia. 2nd and 3rd degree burns on testicles and urethra. Severe facial injury. Defensive type wounds on fingers and hands, as well as evidence of having been bound for an unknown amount of time. Traces of cotton fibers on tongue and inside cheeks indicate man-made material possibly shoved inside mouth or throat.

"Melinda," he said more forcefully, though keeping his voice soft. "Honey."

No response. It wasn't until his hands were lying on the paper that she seemed to snap out of it. She blinked rapidly and looked up at him, allowing him to see the tears in her eyes.

His face twisted in concern.

"Mel," he said worriedly.

He gently pried the paper from under her hands. Her willingness to allow it without resistance told more than words about her state of mind right now. Carefully laying the document on the coffee table beside him, Mike knelt down in front of the recliner and took her hands in his.

Her eyes slowly drifted to meet his. As he laid his hand lovingly across her cheek and rubbed his thumb across the skin, her tears spilled out.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The 27th Precinct in Suffolk County, Long Island was eerily quiet compared to what they were used to seeing. Fin actually went back outside the door once they stepped inside to be sure they had the right building.

Cragen didn't seem disconcerted in the least as they walked silently down linoleum floor toward the main squad room. He chose not to comment, instead glancing inside open doors as they passed a few rooms. Most of them were empty and looked like conference rooms, with long tables surrounded by chairs sitting in almost identical formation in each one he looked into.

He had never worked anywhere outside of the city in all the years he had been a cop, but he had been in enough different precincts to assume that all of them had a standard look about them. He would never have guessed this place to be a base for cops…it looked more like the headquarters for a low-end corporation.

Cragen pushed through the double doors marked **Suffolk County Police Department **and he followed close behind. He was relieved to see a little bit of consistency with what he was used to inside, although there wasn't nearly as people.

An officer who was standing beside the copy machine next to the entrance looked up at their approach.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Don pulled out his badge.

"Captain Donald Cragen, Manhattan Special Victims Unit," he said, gesturing to Fin. "Detective Odafin Tutuola…I need to speak to your captain."

The officer nodded and was starting to say something when a young man strode over from across the room, looking anxious.

"Captain Cragen," he said, holding out his hand immediately.

Fin looked at him warily but Don appeared relieved at the sight.

"Officer Klein," he presumed, already reaching to shake the man's hand. The man nodded and he motioned beside him. "This is Detective Odafin Tutuola."

He extended his hand again readily and Fin shook it warmly, feeling foolish at his assumptions.

"Good to meet you," he said.

Klein turned and waved at them to follow him. "Captain Morris is expecting you," he said, leading them through another set of doors.

They approached an office with the door open and Klein knocked lightly before walking through. A white man with salt-and-pepper hair was sitting at the desk, but stood immediately upon seeing the visitors.

"Captain Cragen?" he asked. Don nodded and quickly made introductions again. "What is it I can do for you?"

Don sucked in a nervous breath.

"Sir, I was made aware that your officers uncovered a photo ID from one of your recent collars that belongs to one of my detectives," he said. "Do you still have it?"

Puzzled, Morris looked at him a moment before opening a drawer and rummaging through it. He came up with the card, extending it to Cragen.

"Right here," he said.

Don clenched his fingers around the smooth plastic.

**Elliot Stabler**

**1st Grade Detective**

**New York Police Department**

"Captain, um…" Cragen drew in another nervous breath. "Do you remember the bulletins you received about a month or so ago….an officer having been kidnapped?"

"Of course," Morris burst out, shaking his head passionately. "Jesus, the whole squad was in an uproar…can you imagine? What kind of _bastard_-"

He stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes widened as the dots connected. His expression went from startled to horrified as he locked eyes with the man in front of him.

Cragen nodded gravely.

"Jesus." Captain Morris squeezed his eyes shut in shame, his face reddening. "Jesus God… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Swallowing hard, he shook his head in agitation. "Christ… I didn't even put it together."

His eyes shifted to Fin, standing slightly behind Cragen. The detective's eyes were locked on the ground. Desperately, Morris jerked his eyes back over to the captain again.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "Klein is a rookie…he just came on a few weeks ago. He wouldn't have known…God, I should have realized." He shook his head again.

"So you can understand our concern?" Don asked woodenly after a minute. "Detective Stabler had that ID on him the day he was kidnapped and we still have one assailant unaccounted for."

Morris nodded quickly. "Yes," he agreed. "Absolutely."

"What's he being charged with?"

The captain was startled to hear Fin's voice and blinked momentarily before answering.

"Breaking and entering," he answered. "At about 2 am this morning….a convenience store over on West Avenue."

He kept his gaze on the detective, expecting him to speak again. He didn't.

"We'll be through processing in the morning," he went on, directing toward Cragen once more. "Once that's through, I'll make sure to get him transported directly to you…I'd say by 9 am even." He looked anxiously at the other captain. "Does that sound alright?"

Don nodded vehemently. "Thank you," he said, emotion making him almost on the verge of breathlessness. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this…thank you."

Morris looked at him squarely.

"If it were one of my guys," he said, his voice nearly venomous suddenly, "I can imagine how I would feel. I want you to know that the entire squad's been in your corner since day one."

Don felt the lump in his throat rising and swallowed. "Thank you," he repeated.

"Where's the holding cell?"

Again, Fin's voice cut through unexpectedly. This time, both of the other men looked at him in surprise.

The detective eyed Captain Morris edgily. Two beats passed and they were still looking startled. Exasperated, he repeated the question slowly, trying not to let his anger bleed through.

"Where…is….the _holding cell_?"

Morris finally seemed to come out of it. "Uh," he stammered quickly, shaking his head. "Sorry…end of the hall." Fin began striding out of the office. "First left…you can't miss it."

Glancing after him anxiously, Cragen spared another grateful look at Captain Morris.

"Thank you," he said once again, hurrying to follow Fin.

"Not a problem," Morris managed to say before he disappeared out of the office.

The other man was already out of the squad room before he had even reached the doors. Jogging quickly, Don pushed through the wooden doors.

"Fin," he called out. "Fin, wait a minute."

"You're not stopping me, Captain." The detective's voice was hard as he spoke without breaking stride or glancing back. "I'm going to that cell."

With a powerful burst of speed, Cragen caught up to him and pulled his arm. He was knocked off-balance and forced to stop, his eyes so full of fire when he whipped around to face his captain that Don almost flinched.

"Captain-" he growled.

He removed his hand from Fin's arm immediately so as not to agitate him further but the black man looked like he was going to spit. He opened his mouth to spout angrily and Don quickly cut him off.

"No, look," he said in a rush, his voice anxious. "I know how badly you want to stomp the shit out of this guy…I know I do." He shook his head desperately, his voice edgy. "There _will_ be no more detectives screwing up their careers on my team. I will not allow you that opportunity."

Don's heart was hammering and his throat was dry. He wasn't playing around...not by a long shot.

They stood facing each other tensely for what seemed like hours. Finally, he saw the other man's Adam's apple bob.

"I need to see him." Fin's voice had caved from intensely pissed to meekly defeated. He swallowed again and his eyes appeared to shine. "I just need…to look at this bastard straight in the face….and him to look into mine."

The words cut deep into Cragen's heart.

"Please, Captain," he continued desperately. "I care too much about Elliot to let this asshole run me out." He nodded firmly. "Please, I just need to see him. Please."

Don's eyes slammed closed as he felt tears rushing up.

_Ditto._

He shook his head slightly with a no-nonsense look on his face, still making sure the detective knew he wasn't messing as he consented.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His heart sped up wildly the closer they got to the corridor. The sign marked **Holding** stood out starkly on the wall and was visible for several feet away.

Cragen didn't speak as they walked and he didn't mind.

He wasn't in the frame of mind to talk.

Two officers sitting at desks looked up when they came through the door. He held up his badge and sensed Cragen doing the same behind him.

"Detective Tutuola, Special Victims Unit," he said, not bothering with a preamble or idleness. "Which one is the B and E?"

He wasn't even looking at the officers…his eyes were scanning the small number of men inside the cell predatorily.

"You mean from this morning?" The officer's voice was muddled by a thick New York accent.

Cragen spoke up quickly, seeing Fin not paying attention. "Yes."

The burly man stood up, his large belly nearly touching the captain as he moved toward the cell. The men inside appeared to pay no notice or care.

"Hey, Einstein," he said loudly, his voice dripping with crudeness on the moniker. No one moved and the officer rolled his eyes, turning back toward Fin and Cragen. "Over there." He jabbed toward the left corner with one beefy finger. "Black jacket."

Fin's eyes narrowed as he walked down to stand closer to the corner of the cell. Cragen watched him for a minute before turning back toward the officers again.

"You get his name?" he asked the same officer, who was sitting down at the desk once more.

It was the other one who answered. He turned in his chair to face Don, brown hair slightly graying.

"Nah," he said sourly. "Still ain't said a word all day…we'll see how a night in the tank treats him."

The words of the other officers were jumbled, barely floating into Fin's subconscious.

He was standing so close to the bars of the cell that his forehead nearly grazed the iron, his eyes taking in the man with the cool calculation of an animal.

The man sat slumped against the wall, the hood of his coat over his head and arms crossed over his chest. Even with the shading, Fin could tell he was young and nervous about where he was.

_I'll bet you were nervous the first time you made Elliot suck your cock, too, weren't you, you mother fucker?_

His fists were clenched tight at his sides as he breathed deeply through his nose in fury.

The man's jeans were ripped at the knee. He was wearing brown combat boots, scuffed on the left toe.

He wasn't extremely muscular, but he looked to work out at a fairly decent rate. His biceps looked sturdy and he appeared adequately toned.

Either unaware or just not caring about the scrutiny, the man inside the cell sighed and shifted position. The sleeves of the jacket fell slightly further down and Fin suddenly noticed two white specks near the right cuff.

His heart suddenly went into his throat. Dots appeared in front of his eyes and he heard buzzing in his ears as he fought the uncontrollable urge to heave.

"_Aw…damn it!"_

_Olivia's laughter caught his attention after the exclamation and he looked up in amusement._

"_God damn it…I thought this stuff was supposed to dry fast."_

_Elliot pushed back from his desk and dropped the White-Out applicator onto his blotter carelessly, his face screwed up into an annoyed scowl. He yanked his coat sleeve down and began blotting the cuff with his finger but the stains were stark._

_He chuckled at his friend's increasing anger as he rubbed more furiously in hopes to remove the white substance._

"_Why the hell are you wearing your coat inside anyway?" He couldn't resist._

_His glare only made Olivia laugh harder._

"_It's freezing," he retorted. "My fingers are like ice cubes." _

_He held them up as if they were indeed frozen._

"Fin." He heard Cragen's voice beside him, unaware that it was the third time the man had said his name. "Come on…we need-"

"_Benson, Stabler, go meet the Queens team at the warehouse. Munch and Fin, call the 5-2. Have them put extra security on Jason Evans and then meet them. 1723 East 22nd Avenue- I believe it's an old meat-packing facility."_

_Elliot reached around Olivia as she slipped her arms into her coat to grab the black fleece. He shrugged into it, zipping it as they headed out._

Fin whirled toward him fast, making the captain jump. The older man's face was furrowed in confusion.

"What-?"

He gripped the iron bars hard, almost squeezing as he looked anxiously at Cragen and cut him off.

"His coat," he said in a rush. "Look at his coat."

Don's expression appeared even more bewildered as he glanced at the man in question.

"Fin, what are you-?"

"Captain," he cut in again. His voice was strained with anxiety. "It's Elliot's coat." Swallowing hard, he looked into the cell again. "He's wearing Elliot's coat."


	42. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

_They were pinning him to the ground, one of them choking him as the others began unbuttoning his pants. Their laughter drowned out her screams. _

"_DON'T TOUCH HIM…I'LL KILL YOU!" She kicked out wildly, trying to get the other men off of her. "FUCKING BASTARDS! DON'T **TOUCH** HIM!"_

_His body was blocked by the swarms of men crowding him. Moans and grunts came from one of them and he screamed hysterically, his terrified eyes locking with hers. She again fought the arms around her._

"_Stop, please," she pleaded in agony. "Take me… PLEASE TAKE ME!"_

Sucking in oxygen frantically, Olivia opened her eyes and found herself staring at her bedroom wall. Her heart was beating wildly as she swallowed hard, looking around with tears streaming.

She hurriedly fought the tangles of blankets around her in order to free her legs and slid out of bed. Barely aware of what she was doing, she stumbled through the kitchen and into the living room.

He lay in dead sleep with his face turned outward on the pillow and his left arm flopped over his chest. The blanket he had been covered in was bunched near his middle and trailing over the end of the couch.

She saw the rabbit on the floor when she crept up beside him and bent to retrieve it before crouching next to his face.

The sound of his steady, soft breaths made her tears fall again. Olivia vainly attempted to wipe away the stream as she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss on his temple. Sniffling, she straightened and just gazed at him for a long moment before moving again.

Her arms reached out to his shoulders and she gently began easing him upright off of his pillow. He whimpered incoherently as her movement jarred him from deep sleep and she slid carefully onto the couch.

She settled his shoulders tenderly into her lap and coaxed his head back to his pillow. He struggled to crack open his eyes, whimpering again in confusion and unhappiness.

"Shhh," she whispered quietly, stroking his brow and watching him continue to fight to open his eyes.

She pulled the blanket up to his neck and nestled the rabbit against him as well. He was out again in seconds, sighing softly as his face drooped against the natural comfort the side of her arm provided.

Her eyes drifted closed as she hugged him protectively and tears wet her cheeks once more.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His mind was a whirlwind for hours after getting into bed. All he could think about was the next day and the nerves that had returned to knot up his back and shoulders. When he finally succumbed to sleep, it was almost three in the morning.

Exhausted from the stress of not enough sleep, Don ended up hitting the snooze alarm three times without moving from his position and was jumping frantically out of bed at the time he was normally leaving his house.

"Morning, Cap," Detective Jenkins greeted as he entered the squad room.

The room was buzzing with activity to remind him of his tardiness and Cragen nodded sheepishly at the man as he crossed to his office.

"Captain."

His door was halfway unlocked when she spoke and he was so startled that he jerked his hand back, leaving the keys dangling.

"Casey," he said in surprise, quickly turning slightly so he could face her. Her presence was so unexpected that he stammered a moment before warmly greeting her. "It's great to see you." Turning back, he hastily opened the door and extended his arm, gently guiding her with a hand on her back. "Come in, come in."

She smiled and shifted her briefcase so it wouldn't bump into him as she stepped past him into the room

"How are you?" he asked as he went around his desk. Seeing her still standing inside the door had him puzzled. He and Casey had a comfortable relationship despite not seeing each other often. She was never afraid to plop into a chair without prompting. Furrowing his brow, he gestured in front of him. "Casey…come on. Have a seat. Relax."

The look on her face told him that her visit was not going to be pleasant. She looked both stern and beside herself at the same time as she strode closer to his desk, biting her lip anxiously.

"Don," she said with concern. "I'm sorry…you need to know I'm not here for a social visit."

His eyebrows jumped automatically but his face remained composed.

"Alright," he said slowly. "How can I help you, Counselor?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Rubbing her still-freezing hands briskly, Kathy stopped at Olivia's door and knocked.

Another chill passed through her coat and she shivered. It was probably around forty degrees outside, but the wind made it seem like it was barely scraping the teens. After a few moments, she knocked again a little harder.

Another minute with no indication of a response had a small twinge of worry start in her lower belly and then she suddenly heard the locks being hurriedly opened.

She heard Olivia hurriedly usher her in but by the time there was enough space for her to pass through the doorway Kathy found herself standing alone inside the apartment with the other woman nowhere in sight.

Perplexed, she turned to shut the door behind her and slide the locks back in place.

She walked through the empty kitchen. A small griddle was on the stove and a bowl of what looked like pancake batter was sitting on the counter. She poked her head into the living room. Aside from a pillow indented with obvious use and a few rumpled blankets on the couch, it too was empty.

Not wanting to venture toward the other woman's bedroom, Kathy stayed where she was. "Olivia?"

"Right here."

The almost immediate response made her jump in surprise and then Olivia was suddenly making her way from the back of the apartment with Elliot in tow.

"Hi," Olivia said brightly, bringing the chair to a stop near her and resting her hands possessively on the handles. "Sorry."

She didn't mention it, but Kathy could tell that Olivia had been helping him in the bathroom when she arrived. She smiled quickly in reply.

"Oh, that's alright," she said pleasantly, waving a hand carelessly. She looked at Elliot and extended her hand lightly to his cheek. "Hi, Elliot."

His eyes were puffy when he looked back at her. Olivia pursed her lips sympathetically as she watched them.

"Hi," he said quietly, meeting her eyes for barely a moment before darting his gaze away again.

Tense silence cut through the air and Olivia rushed to spare him from the humiliation still obvious by barreling into conversation again.

"I've got everything out," she said, glancing quickly toward the stove as she tenderly rubbed the back of his neck. "Why don't you guys get comfortable and I'll start breakfast?"

She was speaking to both of them but looking at Elliot, her eyes imploring and gentle. He didn't look up. She looked hesitantly at Kathy, her expression apologetic and pleading. The blonde nodded her agreement quickly and stepped closer to her ex-husband.

"Yeah, that will work, Elliot," she said encouragingly. "I was going to see if you maybe wanted to give the kids a call…I told them to wait by the phone when I left."

Olivia's heart leaped instantly and she had to fight the huge grin that wanted to escape.

_God bless you, Kathy._

Elliot's head shot up to look at her and his eyes looked conflicted and desperate. But he was nodding before he had time to think about it.

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The telephone rang as he was stepping out of the shower. Bunching the towel around his waist and nearly slipping on the tiled floor, John dashed into the bedroom to snatch up the cordless receiver.

"Hello," he answered.

"Am I speaking to Detective John Munch?" a male voice inquired coolly.

Alarm bells began ringing in his head instantly.

"Yes," he said defensively. "Who am _I _speaking to?"

"Captain Russell Downing of the Manhattan Internal Affairs Bureau," he said without hesitation.

_Oh, Christ._

Anger welled up immediately.

"Look," he snapped. "I don't have anything else to say to you. My-"

"That's alright," Downing interrupted icily. "The purpose of this call is to inform you that you are to conduct an interview with Internal Affairs tomorrow morning at 9 am. Your commanding officer has been notified and failure to appear will result in an appearance before the disciplinary committee."

Clenching his teeth, John said nothing as he fought to keep from cursing the man out.

"Tomorrow morning," Downing repeated without pause. "9 am, Internal Affairs Office. Is that clear, Detective?"

Y_ou low-life cockroach scumbag piece of shit. _

_God damn it!_

"Yes, sir," he said woodenly.

The man hung up without saying goodbye.

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"Okay, baby." His voice was drained and wavering. "I love you…Maureen, I love you."

A moment later, he handed the phone back to Kathy. As soon as she had it in her hand Elliot withdrew into the side of the couch and turned his face away from her. She held the receiver to her ear, looking at his form sadly.

"Hey, sweetie," she said into it. "I'm going to go….yeah, I don't know right now…okay. I love you….bye."

She leaned over and gently placed the phone back on the coffee table. She sat back beside him again and chewed her lip sadly, hesitantly moving her hands toward his back after a minute.

"El?" she ventured softly, circling his back from behind.

He didn't turn toward her or move other than to sink his body further away into the couch.

"Leave me alone," he said hollowly.

The pain in his voice rang clear and she swallowed hard. Tears welled in her eyes.

"They'll come for a visit soon," she said softly. She pressed her hands deeper into his back and rubbed gently. "Elliot, they will."

He tensed in response and his back became too tight for her to move her hands over.

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"You tried to cut them a _deal_?"

The disgust in his voice couldn't be masked and he regretted the words the instant he said them. She didn't work for him and he had no right chastising her.

"I'm sorry, Casey," he immediately amended. "I know you're just doing your job...I just can't stand the thought of these bastards getting _any_ kind of favors."

Fortunately, she wasn't the least bit offended.

"I know, Don," she said earnestly. "I'm with you, believe me….trust me, all they were offered was a chance at solitary. No way would I think about letting any of them skate with less time."

He nodded quickly, not even really thinking about the negotiations at all, and jumped right back to his train of thought anxiously.

"So you think this guy will turn the tables?" he summarized, trying not to let his personal doubt seep through.

Casey nodded. "I do," she said. She gestured to the files she had laid carefully out across Cragen's desk between them. "The DNA tests in the rape kit don't match any of the attackers we already have to each other. We've got the proof that the only other one we haven't caught is genetically linked to Jones….but more importantly, Jones knows it, too." She shrugged. "No one else wants to cooperate…that kid is the key to finding out exactly what happened. Get him to talk and we'll have the case."

Don nodded, blowing through his cheeks. He looked at his watch.

"Well, the guys from Suffolk County should have him here anytime," he said. "Once we get him processed, we'll start sweating him."

"Not yet," she said, nearly cutting off his last words. At his surprised expression, she raised an eyebrow sternly. "Captain, you've had your chance to deliver…now I need my mine. It's imperative that I be given the opportunity to access the whole squad before we make another move. We can't keep going on separate terms."

Cragen scrutinized her openly, his face thoughtful. She was adamant and it was obvious.

"That's fine," he said without hesitation, surprising her. "As soon as we get the guy in our hands, the ropes are yours."

She blinked a moment, taken aback.

"Thank you," she finally said, smiling despite herself.

He nodded with a small smile of his own.

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Fin fidgeted in his chair restlessly and fought the urge to start tapping his fingers against the desk to occupy himself.

It wasn't that he didn't think what Casey had to say was important. God, that couldn't be further from the truth.

But the knowledge that one of those bastards was downstairs in general lockup had him chomping at the bit and he couldn't still.

_You took my friend away from his home…away from his family…away from us. _

_For no reason._

_And then you **violated** him._

His teeth were clenched and he didn't even realize it.

_Well, you're in **my** house now Cowboy. Let's see how tough you are now._

When Casey crossed the room to perch on the edge of a desk, the movement startled him back to awareness. He shook himself.

_God damn it, Fin. Focus. Stop screwing around._

"Look, I'm not saying that I think you guys don't care."

He was startled to hear the slight note of anxiety in her voice. When he realized the other detectives were wearing expressions close to tense or angered, he wondered if he had been so zoned out that he didn't realize there was an argument brewing.

"All I'm saying is that somewhere along the line during the last three months, it's become less about the victim and more about the revenge." Her face was firm and challenging, and he gave her points for standing her ground. Then a minute later, her expression turned desperate again. "I'm just as guilty as you are, here, okay? I'm not trying to point fingers."

There was a minute of silence that felt like everyone in the room was taking a collective, calming breath at the same time.

Casey sighed and dropped her neck forward, rolling it for a moment.

"My point is," she continued finally, her voice seeming more controlled, "is that the usual 'you catch 'em, we cook 'em' philosophy just isn't going to work for this. We're **all** too personally involved." She shrugged with one eyebrow dangerously arched. "If anyone wants to argue that…..please, be my guest."

No one said a word.

Fin glanced across the room to where Cragen was standing near his office door. The captain had a pensive expression.

"Then I'm asking you…" She suddenly hopped off of the desk and pinned firm stares on each detective her gaze swept across. "Work with me." Her voice was determined. "Work with me to keep Elliot Stabler in the center of focus and get justice **for him **as we do what we need to do to nail these guys."

She stopped speaking and held her breath, waiting for the verbal barrage of defensive retorts.

Nothing came.

All around her, people were nodding insistently.

"We're with you, Casey." Don's voice startled her and she looked toward him to see him striding toward her from the corner he had been standing. "Just tell us what you want from us…we're all here for Elliot."

A relieved expression melted her face and she blew out an anxious breath.

"I need to know the details," she said, biting her lip. "Not one of the guys in holding up in Buffalo has said a word. I need to _why _they targeted him…_why _they kidnapped him…._why_ they…" She shook her head, unable to bear completing the sentence.

It didn't matter. The looks on the detective's faces told her they knew exactly what she meant.

She swallowed again to regain her composure.

"I'll be here first thing tomorrow," she went on. "So long as no one tells my boss, I'll be willing to look the other way if more than one set of you wants in on the interrogation…but only if someone gets this guy to talk."

Looks of disbelief and outrage crossed their faces then and she was startled to see Cragen joining in as well.

"Tomorrow?" he finally said, voicing the concern that the others were all thinking.

She pinned him with a look. "He has to be allowed access to a lawyer before you question him and you know it," she said firmly. "Now, I'm almost positive that he's going to want to get Haskins on his side with the others. My boss and I have it arranged so that he'll be able to contact him by phone…you're going to have to wait until we're all cleared."

Her face softened.

"Trust me," she said. "Please….just trust me."

The detectives were still looking at her uneasily. Chewing her lip again, she looked back to the captain. Though he didn't look particularly thrilled, he didn't look upset.

"Tomorrow," he repeated.

This time his voice was firm.

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He tossed to the other side of the pillow again and stretched sideways with an agitated sigh. The window next to the bed only served to highlight the inky blackness of the moon-free night and darken the room even more.

_Why do they want another interview?_

IAB had questioned him about the incident the day after it occurred and had suspended him almost immediately despite what he said. They had hardly seemed to listen to what he had to say.

_If they didn't listen then, why would they change their minds and want to listen now?_

Did Cragen set this up? Why would he do that? Was he getting fired?

_Maybe I should apologize…give a written amendment for my actions. Meet with the defense lawyer to set things straight. _

_But I'm not sorry…damn it! I'm not! Why am I in the wrong here? Look at what the bastard **did**!_

Now his teeth were starting to clench and John knew he would never be able to sleep if he kept up this line of thoughts.

And he needed sleep. He had to appear before the Internal Affairs Bureau in six hours.

_As a civilian. With no badge. _

_But they take enough pity to still address me as "detective…even though I'm "a threat to those under my charge"._

He could still see the cold glint that had been in the agent's eyes that day after the interview.

"_I'm sorry." _

_The man's expression was anything but as he folded his fingers neatly across each other and looked at him. In fact, there was a sparkle in his eyes._

"_I'm going to have to relieve you of your duties while we investigate the matter. It's procedure…you understand."_

Bastards.

John violently turned back to the other side of the pillow again and smashed his fist into it, flattening it. He tussled with the material and tried to find a comfortable spot to lay his face.

Sighing, he gave up and lay still.

He began counting his heartbeats.

_Relax. Calm down._

Seven.

_Just get some sleep. It's too late to worry about it now…it's done._

Twelve.

_It might not have anything to do with that at all._

Fifteen.

His eyes began drooping and he sighed in relief. He could feel his body relaxing. He shut his eyes.

_Maybe I should go see Elliot._

His eyes popped back open again.

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"Olivia!"

She jumped in her sleep and gasped, opening her eyes. Her vision was blurry as she turned over.

It took a minute to focus enough to see the clock. Before she could make out the numbers, she heard him scream her name again. She squinted in the darkness and hurried out of bed.

She heard whimpers and whines as she made her way into the kitchen and quickened her pace immediately.

"Olivia!"

"I'm coming," she called out urgently, striding into the living room. She could barely see his form on the couch. "I'm coming, Elliot."

She snapped on the lamp, squeezing her eyes shut painfully against the brutal brightness, and opened them again. He was reaching for her frantically and squirming, trying to get off of the couch.

"They're coming in!" he screamed. "Olivia, get your gun….THEY'RE COMING IN!"

"Elliot," she said anxiously, reaching his side. She began lowering herself next to him and he clung to her for dear life. "Hon-"

Her words were cut off as he abruptly vomited all over her.

She sat stock-still in complete and total shock as she felt the warm liquid seeping into her lap. She blinked dumbly, trying to process what had just happened, and felt nausea rising fast.

_Breathe. _She inhaled through her nose and gagged involuntarily. _Oh, God…_

_Breathe. Breathe._

He collapsed against her stomach and buried his face in her shirt, weeping hysterically. His entire body was shaking and her heart broke for him.

"Baby," she breathed, dropping her face down against his. She kissed his forehead. "It's okay. Shh...it's okay."

He coughed and hiccupped more sobs, gulping in breaths.

Olivia rocked him slowly, cradling the back of his head to the side of her neck. "I've got you, Elliot. I'm right here," she soothed. "Sweetheart, you're safe. No one's here." She smoothed his forehead tenderly. "No one's here."

He quickly became too worn out to keep up anything besides sniffles and tearful breaths. His face was red from the exertion of the fit. Pursing her lips sadly, she stroked his hair and kissed his forehead.

"Hang on," she said tenderly, easing him gently back. He swallowed and sniffled, tears still falling every time he blinked his eyes. She cupped his cheek lovingly. "I'll be right back."

Olivia walked quickly back to her room and shucked off her pajamas, holding her breath in effort not to gag as it passed over her face. She changed into sweats and got a clean shirt out of his bag. When she came back into the kitchen, she retrieved a bottle of water and ran a dishtowel under the sink.

"Okay," she said gently as she returned. She opened the water and cradled his head. "Here, sweetheart….drink some water."

He sniffled wetly, tears trailing slowly down his face while he took a sip and noisily gulped it. She pressed her hand against his forehead, sensing the upset had more to do with fright than sickness but wanting to be sure. The skin was clammy but not hot.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she then pressed the damp towel where her hand had been.

"That's good," she soothed, dragging the cloth down to his neck and around the ring of his collar. "There you go….nice and cool, there you go."

He swallowed shakily and she offered the water to him again, which he drank eagerly while she wiped his chin and slightly underneath. Most of the vomit had missed his shirt and what little had gotten on it was easily removed when she wiped at it.

"You want to change your shirt?" she asked anyway.

Elliot shook his head wearily, resting his face against her neck and closing his eyes.

She cradled him gently and began rocking again, praying the motion might soothe both of them.


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The elevator emptied out the higher up it went. By the time it reached the floor where the Internal Affairs Office was housed, John was alone in the car.

The doors opened to reveal empty hallway.

He remained frozen where he was for a second, anxious neurons shooting at his brain from what seemed like a million different directions. Holding his breath to alleviate the urge to go back down again, he forced himself to step out.

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Heads snapped up and stared at her as she came into the squad room. Some of the detectives out their heads back down immediately to avoid seeming too anxious, but many weren't even attempting the hide the vengeful expressions of anticipation.

Striding purposefully across the room, Casey met their eyes and smiled weakly as she approached Cragen's office. Stopping her briefcase from swinging on her shoulder, she knocked softly and then stepped back.

The door opened in almost seconds. She was prepared to walk inside and the sight of the captain standing directly in front of her made her jump in surprise.

"Hi," he said, a little too quickly. An awkward expression crossed his face for a moment as he rushed on. "Are you all set?" He was already making his way out of the office.

Taken aback, Casey couldn't help the words escaping her for a moment.

_Good God…he looks ready to put a bullet into this guy's head right now._

She had a sinking feeling of dread that all of them were eagerly awaiting their chance to face off with the suspect. Her face began getting hot and she grimaced inwardly.

_What **possessed **you to promise them all a turn in interrogation? Jesus…_

Swallowing, she put on a game face and raised an eyebrow smartly, struggling not to show her inner anxiety.

"Uh…yeah," she said, stammering a bit. "Yeah, of course." She stepped aside as Cragen came out to stand beside her. "My boss is already prepared to put me through to Dwight Haskins and is waiting for my call. Do you have a phone provided?"

"Everything you need is already in the room waiting," Don answered.

Casey nodded. "Alright, then," she said. She looked at him expectantly as they both turned to face the squad. "Which room is he in?"

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Gulping the last swallow of the orange juice, Olivia placed the empty glass quietly in the sink and walked toward the living room entrance.

Elliot was lying on his back, buried under the blanket almost to the top of his nose and dead to the world.

Whatever he had seen in his dreams the night before had frightened him badly. He had spent the night shaking as she rocked him and fighting not to go back to sleep. By the time he had given up, sunlight was beginning to peek through the shutters.

Returning back into the kitchen, she went to her bedroom and stripped off her pajamas. A tight feeling began invading her chest as she wrapped her robe around herself and she felt her heart starting to pound. She stubbornly ignored it as she grabbed a towel.

She walked into the bathroom and set the towel down on the toilet. Now she could feel herself starting to gasp for breath and swallowed hard as she clambered in a panic out of the room again. She strode through the kitchen and into the living room.

He was on the couch and sleeping.

Letting out a disgusted and relieved breath, Olivia blinked back her tears and shook her head. She went back to the bathroom.

She turned the temperature valve to hot and the spray started immediately. Her hand trembled as she took it away and stepped back from the tub. Her heart pounded in her ears and she stood still, straining to ignore the sound of the pulsating water so she could listen for outside noise.

Her throat became dry and her heart was now painfully thumping against her ribcage because she realized she couldn't hear anything except the shower. Her chest tight, Olivia tore out of the bathroom again and to the living room.

He was still on the couch and sleeping.

Walking blindly back to the bathroom, she groped for the handles of the tub and turned off the shower. She sank down onto the lid of the toilet, knocking the towel carelessly to the side, and buried her face in her hands as warm tears cascaded into her fingers.

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"_I love you, Kit-Kat." _

She felt warmth spread to her toes as she recalled the way his voice had sounded on the phone.

God, she had missed it.

Kathleen felt tears welling in her eyes and ducked her head quickly back down to her Physics notebook before anyone around her noticed.

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He entered the room stiffly, trying to control his heart beat.

_Why the hell are you nervous, moron? **They** screwed **you**!_

He swallowed as he made his way inside.

_Yeah…they screwed you, sure. Threatening a man's life should have definitely have been understood without asking any questions._

"Have a seat."

Clenching his teeth, John shook himself as he approached the indicated chair across from the desk.

_Stop fucking arguing with yourself and concentrate, you idiot. Don't give them **more** reason to think you've got a screw loose._

"Thank you for coming," Captain Downing said.

John fought the incredulous expression and bit his tongue quickly.

_Like you gave me a choice, asswipe._

"My pleasure," he managed to spit out with less venom than he wanted to.

"I'll get right down to business, Detective," he said. He began opening a manila file which John noticed for the first time lying in front of him. "We've gone over the statement you provided regarding the 'altercation' that occurred between yourself and one Jason Evans."

The man looked up from the file and stared at him firmly. The look on his face made the detective's stomach roll.

_God, he's about to fire me._

His palms started to sweat.

_Good thing my pension from Homicide is still ripe._

"Detective Munch," Downing said slowly. The tone of his voice made John somewhat uneasy. It sounded….hesitant. "Do you still advocate that Jason Evans made verbal admission of rape and/or sexual abuse to you?"

His fists clenched automatically on the handles of the chair.

"_No Detective…**you** are the one who should be thankful. Be thankful your cherry ass wasn't popped too, fucker."_

He saw angry spots as the taunting voice returned.

_I should have pulled that god damned trigger._

"Yes," he said shortly, his voice clipped with fury. "As sure as we're sitting here, Captain."

Downing stared at him silently and he stared right back.

After a long moment of tense quiet, the man spoke again.

"I spoke to your commanding officer," he said. "He had nothing but praise for your arrest record and personal file, which has been blemish-free since your arrival at Special Victims." He paused. "He also was very…" The man hesitated a moment, his face twisting in agitation at the memory, "_adamant _about letting us know how he personally condones the behavior you displayed that day."

The shock on John's face made his eyebrows rise instantly.

_What? When the hell did he do that?_

Downing paused again, looking stern, and he was quick to morph his expression back to attentiveness.

"Now, rest assured, this incident will be put into your jacket, Detective Munch," he said. "And that this act of inexcusable repugnancy you have chosen to display has tarnished the image of both you and your squad in the eyes of this bureau."

He paused again, pursing his lips. When John didn't speak or even indicate any sign of caring in his expression, Downing couldn't hide his personal disgust.

"However," he said after a minute, obviously dissatisfied, "the accounts from the other eyewitnesses both inside and outside of the lockup corroborate that Jason Evans did admit to his actions and keeping the information from public knowledge would make us in violation of the legal right of discovery. Therefore, we have no choice but to lift the suspension."

It took him a minute to comprehend what the man had just said. His face reflected suspicion, shock, and relief all at once.

"You-" he stammered. "I…" He shook himself. "I'm back on duty?"

"Your commanding officer will return your firearm," the captain said woodenly, without directly admitting the answer. "You're expected to arrive at normal hour tomorrow and your tasks to be performed without question."

He concluded talking and looked at John expectantly. The detective fought back the look of pure disgust toward Captain Russell Downing.

_You insufferable prick. I bet I wouldn't get an apology out of you if my life depended on it._

"You're dismissed, Detective."

Fuck it. He didn't care if the man never spoke to him again for the rest of his life…in fact, he preferred it.

"Thank you," he said, practically jumping to his feet to get out of the small, cramped office.

He still couldn't do anything for another day, but the feeling of relief that had taken over his chest was so welcome that it didn't even matter.

His foot was halfway out of the open door when he suddenly stopped short in dread.

_Oh, fuck._

Turning back around, John faced the man again. Downing looked at him in surprise and what looked like dismay.

"Is there something else?" he asked.

"_That's great, John." The captain's brown eyes were fuming. "I guess the squad means nothing to you, then?"_

"What about the other detectives?" Munch demanded.

Downing just looked at him. John swore that he saw pure venom in his eyes.

"Other detectives?" he parroted harshly.

Glaring at him in exasperation, he strode back toward the desk again.

"The other ones you suspended," he said. "Detectives Tutuola, Briscoe, and Kessler." His voice was hard. "They're back on duty, too, correct?"

Captain Downing's expression was hard. "Any matter concerning another detective is not of your concern," he said dryly. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

_Yes, as a matter of fact._

_Would you mind leaning forward so I can rearrange your face?_

"No, thank you," he said, clenching his teeth.

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Fin looked up from his file when the captain returned back into the squad room shortly after escorting Casey to the interrogation room.

Cragen passed by his desk and rapped his fingers insistently on the top without slowing.

"I need to see you in my office," he said as he walked past.

Squinting in suspicion, he laid aside the document and got to his feet. When he saw Cragen on the other side of the room rounding up Briscoe and Kessler, his heart went into his throat.

_Damn…what is it now?_

He hoped those IAB fucks hadn't been made aware of the captain's plan to allow the three of them in on interrogation despite his orders to keep them on desk duty.

The others were already in by the time Fin got to the doorway. Cragen was standing behind the door waiting to close it behind him.

Briscoe and Kessler were standing to the side and shot him matching looks of confusion and apprehension as the captain turned his back to go around the desk. He just shrugged slightly and went to stand with them.

Silence boomed around them as the sound of Cragen unlocking his bottom drawer echoed louder than normal. When he saw the captain removing their guns and placing them on the desktop, Fin felt his heart start to pound.

_No way._

Did he dare hope….?

"Briscoe," Don said shortly, picking his up.

Kenny's eyes darted to the other detectives nervously before he stepped reluctantly toward the captain. He held out the weapon silently and after a minute the young man took it.

"Tutuola," he continued almost the second Briscoe had it. He picked up the second weapon.

He went to the desk and took the gun. It was amazing how good it felt in his hand. He stared at the captain, hoping to be able to read his eyes, but the older man's expression was firm.

"Kessler," he finished.

Kessler took his weapon and went back beside the other two. They had theirs already back in the holsters. As he did the same, his eyes joined theirs to stare at the captain.

"Novak will be ready in a bit," he said shortly, without explanation. "I'll let you know when it's time to go in." His tone was dismissive and clipped as he stepped back around, wordlessly opening the door again to indicate they were to leave.

Briscoe and Kessler filed out silently. Fin brought up the rear, stopping as he got beside Cragen. The captain's face was unreadable.

"Captain-" he began slowly.

Don cut him off with a shake of the head. "Just go, Fin," he said.

Something wasn't right.

His stomach was tight but he obeyed, leaving the office without another word.

The door shut behind him almost immediately.

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Biting her lip, Olivia hesitantly made her way into the living room again.

Elliot had been awake for almost two hours and hadn't moved from his position once. He remained pressed against the back of the couch, shaking as he huddled under the blanket, and cried silently.

She kneeled carefully next to the couch and laid a hand softly on his knee. He shuddered and moved further away.

"Please don't touch me," he whispered painfully.

She fought to remain composed, taking a shaky breath as she began thinking of something that might distract him.

"Want me to turn the TV on?" she asked softly.

He didn't respond past more tears. She felt desperation bubbling dangerously in her heart.

"Want me to sit up there with you?" she continued gently.

His face twisted more painfully. She felt herself cracking.

"Elliot," she pleaded desperately, wanting more than anything to just wrap him in her arms until he stopped shaking. "Sweetheart…"

Her voice broke.

Biting her lip, she folded her legs under her, finding a comfortable position on the floor against the couch. She laid her hand up on the cushion near him without trying to touch him and just sat with him silently.

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"Are you ready, Mr. Madison?" she asked woodenly, leaning her arms on the table separating them.

The young man was nervous. He was trying to play it off, but it was obvious even to her. A small twinge of sadistic pleasure shot through her.

He stared at the phone sitting in the middle of the table and then looked up at her.

"Yes," he said.

Casey didn't change her expression as she continued.

"Are you ready, Mr. Haskins?" she said, speaking toward the phone this time.

"Go ahead." His voice rang out clear and confident from the speaker and she could almost picture the slime reclining in a leather chair of some sort.

She nodded once.

"Mr. Madison," she said, speaking clearly for Haskin's benefit. "Were you made aware of your rights upon entry?"

"Yes," he said.

"I am going to have a detective go over them again before we begin questioning," she said, refusing to give Haskins any kind of ammunition at all. "Are you alright with that?"

"Yes," Madison replied for a third time.

"And you, Mr. Haskins?" she asked.

"That's fine," the attorney said.

She nodded. "I'll be back shortly with the first set of detectives," she said. "Your attorney will instruct you from this point on."

Then she walked out of the interrogation room and left the man alone.

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Another wave of cold passed through his entire body, all the way down to his toes.

It was so cold out there, especially at night….God, he had never been so cold in his entire life. It got worse every night as the tide rose. He would get used to the temperature in the sand and then the freezing water would crash over his body to send it into defensive shivering.

He swallowed more tears and shuddered, struggling to pull the blanket closer around him. Blurrily peering over the edge of the couch, Elliot saw Olivia sprawled against the side where she had been sitting all afternoon. The hand that had been lying next to his was limp as she slept.

_It's my fault she doesn't get any sleep._

Guilt crushed his chest as he felt the despair rising again.

_It's my fault. I should have stopped them._

He bowed his head in shame and cried into the blanket so that the sound wouldn't carry. He closed his eyes and shuddered, swaying involuntarily.

_The man thrust his penis into him harder and yelled triumphantly, making the others howl with laughter. The cold air raised goosebumps on his exposed buttocks when the man swung his leg over his body and stood up._

_The pain was so excruciating that he couldn't move. _

"_How's **that** for rough, bitch?" the man crowed next to his ear. _

_A hand squeezed the nape of his neck and made him tense up immediately. The resulting pain made him moan and he sniffled wetly in attempt to breathe through the gag._

_They howled with laughter again._

"_Aw," someone said in a syrupy voice, mocking him. "I think we made him cry." A sharp pinch on his left buttock make him gasp. "Whatsa matter, little slut? Want me to kiss it better?"_

He continued swaying back and forth, sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe.

"_Pathetic **cunt!"** _

_His eyes widened in dread when the man screamed furiously and jumped to his feet, his penis still hanging out from his open zipper. He kicked sand savagely into his face over and over before ramming his boot square into his side, frustrated and outraged by his inability to fulfill his desire._

"_Shut up!" he roared when he started hearing screams. He kept kicking over and over. "You're lucky I don't cut the fucking piece of shit **OFF! GOD DAMN IT…SHUT THE FUCK UP NOW!"**_

The salty sting of tears made him crack his eyes open and then shut then again painfully.

_It's all my fault._

He sobbed again and slumped against the back of the couch.

_It's all my fault._

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The door opened and the pair of detectives strode out angrily.

Don reached over to turn off the sound to the room in front of them and blew through his cheeks tiredly. Next to him, Casey dropped her head in frustration and exhaled loudly.

"That's enough, guys," he said tiredly, turning to face the two detectives. "Good work." He sighed. "Don't send any more in right now."

Detective Hector Walker grimaced apologetically. "Sorry, Captain," he said in defeat, shrugging. "That's one tough nut."

The captain turned away from them without a response. Walker glanced at his partner and sent a sympathetic stare at Casey before they walked back to the squad room.

"We're never going to get him," she said in despair, shaking her head.

The captain glanced at her and then back through the two-way glass. The young man had his pushed the phone to the side and dropped his head wearily into arms resting on the table. Don shook his head in disgust and faced her again.

"Yeah, we will," he said.

"It's been **five hours**," she ground out in frustration.

"You don't have to stay, Casey," he said. "If there are other things you need to be doing I don't want you getting into trouble." He looked at her with an arched brow. "Haskins won't let any civil liberties be taken advantage of by my guys if that's what you're worried about."

The stare she gave him was positively mutinous.

Turning back toward the window, Casey smacked her hand on the volume control to activate it and shook her head angrily as she leaned against the glass to continue waiting.

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Persistent knocking filtered through her cloudy brain and she opened her eyes, her head lolling forward.

Pain shot up her spine and neck, making her hiss and waking her up fast.

Olivia realized at once that she was still on the floor beside the couch. Stiff limbs protested as she pushed away and began moving. Her head cleared the edge of the cushion and she encountered Elliot leaning against the back of the couch. The blanket had fallen carelessly to expose his shoulders and he was stared at the side wall.

His gaze dragged to hers as he heard her moving, his eyes puffy and red. Guilt and heartbreak flooded her instantly as she realized she must have fallen asleep. She reached up to lay a hand hesitantly over his.

"Hey," she greeted tenderly, her tone apologetic.

He only blinked tiredly in response, but he didn't move his hand.

As she braced her other hand on the arm of the sofa to get to her feet, the knocking sounded again. She groaned and stood up fully. She ran her hand over his forehead as she walked to the door.

She checked the peephole and immediately unlocked the door.

_Damn, Kathy's off from work…I was asleep for a long time. _

Jesus, she had known Elliot was on the couch miserable and she had gone to sleep. What the hell was wrong with her?

The blonde smiled at her disheveled appearance.

"Hi," she said in amusement. "Did I wake you?"

Olivia scoffed wearily and ushered the other woman inside, closing the door behind her.

"Are you making anything for dinner?" Kathy asked cheerfully as she walked past her and set a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter.

Groaning in disgust, Olivia dropped her hand in one hand and wearily dragged her fingers through her hair. Her face was hot with shame and embarrassment.

_He hasn't gotten anything to drink all afternoon… he's probably starving and so is she…she's been at work all day and now she's sacrificing her time to help you out…and you decided to sleep all day. Smart move there, dumb ass._

"Not yet," she said sheepishly, looking up at the blonde hesitantly. "I fell asleep like an idiot…" She shook her head in disgust. "I'm sorry, Kathy…let me see what I've got in the freezer. I'll run to the store if-"

Kathy held up her hand to stop her with a smile and lifted out a cardboard tray with a Rotisserie chicken inside.

"My children told me they would rather have fast food than eat a real, delicious dinner," she said dryly, shaking her head in playful disgust. She rolled her eyes as she went back inside to lift out three other small cartons. "Something is wrong with them, I'm telling you." Olivia couldn't help but laugh. "I've got mashed potatoes, butter beans, and coleslaw…does any of that sound good to you?"

The detective groaned in appreciation.

"That sounds like heaven," she said gratefully. She came forward quickly as the blonde began opening the cartons. "Here…" She took the lid from Kathy's hand and received a look of surprise. "Go see Elliot…I'll take care of this."

Kathy smiled and backed away from the counter, letting Olivia take over. She turned toward the living room and walked through the doorway.

His puffy, bloodshot blue eyes were noticeable immediately and her breath caught. He looked at over at her wearily without speaking as she approached.

"Hi, baby," she murmured in concern, sitting down on the couch beside him. She raised a hand hesitantly to his cheek, barely gracing the skin. "How are you feeling?"

He tensed and turned away from her touch without speaking.

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His abrupt move to turn the sound off in the middle of the detective's words startled her. Furrowing her brow in surprise, Casey looked at him.

The captain's face was furious. Not four seconds ago, she had seen the same look of agitation and impatience that was on her own face as they watched yet another pair of detectives trying to get the suspect to talk.

"What's-?" she began in concern, but cut herself off when Cragen stormed over toward the door to the interrogation room.

"That's enough," he said harshly, his voice echoing through the speaker beside her head.

She watched through the glass, her expression of shock mirrored on the faces of the two detectives inside.

Don strode over to the table and wrenched hold of the young man's forearm.

"Get up," he snarled, yanking him to his feet. The young man jumped in surprise, his face showing his nervousness as he stumbled upright. Cragen pushed him toward one of the detectives, making him stumble again. "Take him back to the cell."

The detective looked at his partner and then Cragen in confusion and apprehension.

"Captain-?" he began hesitantly.

"JUST DO WHAT I SAY!"

Casey jumped when Don suddenly screamed at him angrily and the detective did too. He immediately brought one handcuff around the young man's wrist without a word and began pulling him toward the door. His partner quickly followed after him into the squad room without looking back.

She was turned watching them and the loud crash next to her made her jump.

Looking back through the glass, she saw that the chair the suspect had been occupying for the last ten hours was now on its side against the far wall and Captain Cragen was leaning against the cold stone with his head buried in his arms.

Casey bit her lip and looked back toward the door leading to the squad room to see if anyone was coming. When a moment passed with nothing, she ventured closer to the interrogation room and hesitantly stepped into the doorway.

"Go home, Casey."

The weary, quiet voice made her start…his head was still in his arms and he wasn't facing her.

_How the hell did he know I was here?_

She bit her lip again.

"Captain," she said softly, her voice nervous.

_How do you attempt to sympathize with a man who has more clout in this precinct than your own boss?_

"We're done for tonight," he said wearily. "We'll try again in the morning."

She remained where she was. He turned around and pinned her with a stare.

"I need time to cool off," he said. He shook his head. "I'm about ready to beat the little shit into talking myself."

She had never heard Don Cragen curse before.

"It takes time," she said after a moment of tense silence. "We'll get him to talk…you said so yourself. It just takes time."

She was aware of how pleading her voice sounded and she didn't know if it was from fatigue or fear.

_What if he doesn't talk?_

The captain shook his head again, clearly humoring her. He set the chair right side up again and walked toward the door. She remained in place. He brushed past her without glancing at her but she could see his face.

It was twisted like she had never seen before.

"Go home," he repeated as he passed.

She turned around and watched him walk back into the squad room. His shoulders were slumped.

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He wept bitterly, tense in her embrace.

"I'm dirty," he sobbed. "I'm a slut…a disgusting, dirty slut." His voice was agonized. "I am."

Olivia bit her lip to stifle her sobs and leaned against the headboard, her leg trailing over the mattress as she rocked him back and forth.

"No," she murmured tearfully, shaking her head and hugging him tighter. "No, Elliot. You're not dirty."

He coughed wetly and sobbed in agony. She pressed her face against his temple, her tears escaping. He shook his head again without moving.

It was nearly nine pm…the medicine had been in his system for well over an hour. She was surprised he had been able to fight it this long.

She pulled the comforter tighter over his back and stroked the back of his neck.

"Shh," she cooed wearily, swaying him gently. He sniffled and coughed again, his voice shaking with tears. "Close your eyes, sweetheart. I've got you…just close your eyes."

Elliot sighed and began becoming limp against her. He swallowed noisily, his chest continuing to heave as he gave up and rested his face on her shirt.

His breathing began becoming steady as the fatigue took over. Cradling him closer, she absently continued stroking his hair in her fingers and listened to his deep inhales.

Swallowing, she wearily allowed herself to sink into the pillow behind her. He shifted slightly and sighed again, reflexively pressed himself tighter against her in his unconsciousness.

Her throat tightened and she sniffled quietly as she lowered her face against his.

"You're wrong," she whispered, stroking the back of his neck. "You're beautiful."

Her face screwed up painfully as she gazed into his peaceful expression and tears flooded down her face. "Beautiful and amazing and perfect."

She placed a kiss to his cheek and sobbed.

He didn't stir.


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Elliot clutched the comforter in a tight grip, twitching restlessly and whimpering in fright as he remained trapped in his dreams. His body trembled and soon he was wailing unconsciously.

He couldn't feel the arms circling him or the cool hands stroking his face.

He wasn't aware of the tender kisses gently being applied to his temple or the soothing voice melodically cooing in his ear.

He didn't understand what was happening when he woke up gasping and was instantly gathered into a loving embrace, but didn't hesitate to immediately welcome the warm shoulder against his face when he found it.

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_Don't sweat this. Just go in there and get to work. _

His stomach was twisting with every floor. He swallowed, his eyes glued to the buttons as each one lit up with the passing climb.

_Don't expect a welcome reception. Half of them probably want to punch you in the face. The other half…who the hell knows? _

He kept fingering the gun on his right hip and couldn't get over how odd the sensation of having it on felt. He had only been without it a few weeks.

_Don't push things with Fin. He's been on desk duty for weeks because of you and it's a miracle he didn't clock you the last time you talked._

The elevator continued up and John bit his lip, continuing to try mentally preparing himself and to ignore the nervous twisting of his stomach.

_You can't screw this up again. Stay together and focus. Remember what the purpose is. _

His eyes shut painfully.

"_He was so terrified of me he didn't know which end was up."_

"_STOP, STOP…PLEASE, PLEASE!" _

"_Mmmm…I made up for **plenty** of lost time." _

The loud _ding_ startled his eyes open as he immediately felt himself being pushed from behind. He robotically shuffled out of the elevator and stepped out of the way of the other people trying to rush around him.

He swallowed and stared at the squad room doors several yards in front of him. He could see detectives through the glass at work.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to walk toward them.

_Remember **who** the purpose is._

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"Oh…Ms. Novak!"

The harried voice caught her off guard as she was hurrying toward the corner. She winced in dismay, stopping herself mid-stride before she could make it all the way and looking back down the hall.

Her boss' secretary was standing up behind her desk, waving a slip of paper in her wrinkled fingers. Her weathered face was drawn up with anxiety and apology.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I almost forgot to give this to you."

Inhaling impatiently and forcing a warm smile, Casey walked back over to the desk. The woman held the slip of paper toward her.

"It was sitting right here beside the phone and I just looked right over it." Her tongue clucked with distress as she manipulated the wiry glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "These new glasses just aren't adjusting like I'd hoped…but I just can't stand the thought of that laser surgery. I'm afraid to even look at the sun directly."

Normally, the old woman's prattling was endearing, but this morning was not starting out well for Casey Novak. She'd overslept, discovered that the dryer had malfunctioned in the middle of the night making the clothes she was planning to wear still soaked, and narrowly avoided eating the back end of a Camaro in her rush to arrive.

She was on the verge of snapping and the matronly secretary was going to get the brunt if she couldn't get herself out of there in the next few seconds.

"Thank you, Mrs. Mason," Casey cut in quickly, as nicely as she could. She clutched the paper messily in her hand and smiled again. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me. I'm late." She was already turning away. "Thank you again."

She continued quickly to her office and unlocked the door, hurrying to the desk without turning on the light. Her eyes flew to the clock as she fumbled through her briefcase rapidly for her notes. The meeting was going to start in five minutes.

She tossed the paper on the desk without looking at it and hurried back toward the door.

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Olivia shook the pill bottle against her hand and carefully extracted two pills. He sighed sleepily and squirmed up against the pillows, his eyes droopy. She chuckled as she set the bottle back down on the nightstand.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she teased, reaching for the glass of water.

Elliot exhaled slowly and she waited for him to become more alert, running her hand compassionately through his hair.

"Good morning, sunshine," she said affectionately once she saw the focus come into his eyes. He glared at her sourly and she laughed. "It's about time."

It was almost ten and he had been sleeping for nearly eleven hours. She had awakened several hours prior and had managed to get a shower and breakfast before he had even started to stir.

Chuckling again, Olivia held out the pills to him and waited for him to take them into his palm before raising the glass of water towards him. He washed down the pills slowly and sighed, resting his head back on the pillow.

"Are you hungry?" she asked gently, setting the glass down beside the alarm clock.

He shook his head immediately but his face registered his shock when a loud rumble escaped his stomach. He was now going on his fourth day of having nothing but water in his system but had been refused her attempts at getting him to drink the Ensure. Despite his best efforts, however, his stomach was finally starting to protest. She had heard it growling the night before even as he slept.

Olivia smiled tenderly at the flush that crept over his face.

"Sounds like that belly of yours thinks differently," she said. She bit her lip slightly. "Why don't I bring you a little bit of Ensure and you can just taste it, how's that?" She hoped her voice was more encouraging than she felt inside. "Want to do that?"

He shook his head again with a stubborn look on his face and she fought the urge to sigh in frustration.

"Elliot," she said, leaning down closer to him. He turned his head away sharply when she tried to stroke his cheek and a sting of hurt ripped her heart. "You have to eat, honey." Her voice came out firmer than she intended as she pulled her hand back and this time the sigh escaped.

"I know you don't want to, sweetheart, and I'm sorry." She bit her lip again. "I really need you to try." Taking a chance, she reached to stroke his cheek once more. He didn't move this time, but he didn't look at her either. "Please…can you try for me?"

Even with his face turned away, she saw the tears when they slowly leaked into the pillowcase. She silently stroked his hair and didn't speak again.

The ringing of the phone startled both of them. Without moving, she looked beside her to the cordless base and was dismayed to see it was empty. Then she remembered that she had taken it into the bathroom with her during her shower and hadn't brought it back.

Giving his head another stroke, Olivia leaned down swiftly to kiss his cheek.

"I'll be right back," she said softly and reluctantly rose from the bed, hurrying to grab the phone before it stopped ringing.

Elliot listened to her footsteps fading away. He swallowed and slowly turned his head, reaching up with his hand to swipe the tears and angrily feeling more leak out immediately.

His eyes fell on the open pill bottle sitting beside him on the nightstand and he stared at it intently.

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"What do you mean by that?"

The defensiveness crept into her tone before she realized it and she stopped mid-motion, hand just about to make the initial incision into the body.

Gary shook his head dismissively, shrugging. "Nothing," he said. He turned away and walked toward the stainless steel washbasin. "Never mind…forget I said anything."

He turned on the sink and began to wash his hands again despite the fact that he had just done so not a minute before.

Melinda took her hand back from the slab and set the cadaver down, pulling off her surgical mask. She swallowed and wrestled with the sudden emotions brewing inside of her.

"No…" Her eyes narrowed in shock and hurt as she struggled to keep her voice from becoming snippy, repeating what he had said in disbelief. "I might want to think about letting someone else take over on this one?" Her face screwed up in confusion and anger. "Why would you say that?"

The young man seemed intent on soaping his hands excessively and wouldn't face her. She set her eyebrows hesitantly and waited, not willing to let him back out of the confrontation.

After a long few moments, her lab assistant reluctantly turned away from the sink toward her to dry his hands. His expression was pure guilt and he sighed nervously, seeing that she wasn't going to budge.

"Look, Doc," he said sharply. "I'm sorry….it came out wrong. I wasn't trying to offend you, alright?"

She watched him fiddle absently with the readings from a previous case and knew instantly that something was up. Gary Hamilton was one of the kindest, most gentle-spirited people she had ever met. Not one time in the five years he had worked for her had he ever spoken an edgy word to her, even when she sometimes lost her patience with a case out of exhaustion or a bad day and snapped at him without meaning to.

"Gary, stop with the tap dancing," she said in exasperation. "If something's bothering you, say so."

He stopped and turned on his heel to face her so quickly that she was startled. By the look on his face, it was obvious he was acting out of nervous impulse for fear of losing his confidence.

"I'm just starting to get tired of running circles here," he said finally. He sighed and shook his head desperately, brown eyes hesitant and anxious as he stared at her. "Doctor Warner…I-" He bit his lip slightly, faltering.

"These past few weeks it's been like you haven't really been here. I've had to go back to numerous cases that should have been long since processed because your readings didn't match." He swallowed. "Just the other day I got chewed out by the captain of Queens Homicide because the results I sent from your examination were given to the wrong case."

His face was flushed, showing his obvious discomfort about saying what he was.

Melinda was so shocked and horrified that she couldn't even form a coherent expression. She just stood with her mouth slightly agape in absolute mortification.

"Look, it's not your fault," Gary went on quickly. "Doc, you're under a lot of stress. You've got a lot on your mind, what with your friend and everything…and that's okay."

She could feel the blood starting to rush to her head as he kept on without notice.

"What happened to him isn't something that you can just pretend to forget about." He looked at her desperately. "It's obviously weighing on your mind very deeply and it _deserves_ to be. I really respect you, Melinda, and I care about you very much. I just hate to see you acting like everything is fine for my sake when it's obvious you're miserable."

He never addressed her by her first name.

She could feel tears in her eyes. God, what a damn fool she was.

She was so convinced that she was a pro at hiding it, that no one could see her pain…and all the while she had been heaping unseen amounts of stress and sloppiness on the most dedicated staff she had ever worked with.

Melinda shook her head slightly, still trying to find words.

"Gary," she began, before having to stop. She shook her head again. "I'm sorry. I'm… so sorry." She ducked her head, swallowing. "You're right. You're absolutely right and I'm..." She found she couldn't even think of any better words to say. "I'm sorry. I can't even believe you've been putting up with it."

His move to lightly touch her shoulder was such a surprise that her eyes came up out of their own volition. His brown eyes were warm and sympathetic.

"It's alright, I promise," he said, nodding. "I'm just worried about you." His eyebrows rose in concern. "Really…why don't you just take some time? You've done more than you're share of covering for us in the past…we'll take care of things for you here." He nodded insistently.

She felt herself preparing to protest and refuse out of instinct.

But then she stopped and just looked at him, biting her lip.

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Don signed off on the report and pushed it to the side, leaning back in his chair. He let his gaze travel through the window to the squad.

He was still in total shock that he suddenly had four of his detectives back and working when not two weeks ago he was being prepped to sign discharge papers. Apparently, being their commanding officer wasn't enough to warrant Internal Affairs to take him seriously when he was defending them.

Then without warning, he gets a call from Chief Stoneman telling him that the charges are being dismissed for the time being and that all of them were going to be returning to work the next day. He hadn't had time to even utter a question before being disconnected.

He couldn't deny feeling relieved despite his suspicion and more than willing to give Fin, Briscoe, and Kessler back their duties. In his opinion, they hadn't done anything to deserve it in the first place.

But he was still wary about John and didn't like the feeling.

From his occasional glances throughout the morning, it was apparent that John and Fin had tension between them. They worked beside each other, but they weren't working together, and it was more than obvious that Fin wasn't happy about having his partner back.

It wasn't his place to get involved and he wasn't about to. As long as they were working, it wasn't his business.

However, now that the punk down in the lockup had his lawyer available, they couldn't fudge regulations anymore. There was going to have to be a primary set of detectives assigned to him and the rest would have to move on.

He wanted John and Fin to do it.

Despite how much it made him nervous, despite how much trouble he could foresee, despite what could go wrong… it had been the four of them had rescued Elliot.

The rest of the squad cared for and respected Elliot. He had no doubts in his mind at all that they would do anything for him.

But the rest of the squad hadn't been on that beach. The rest of the squad hadn't been at the hospital. The rest of the squad hadn't seen him at his most vulnerable.

They had.

Getting personal was a mistake in this business. They all knew it and he always made sure to keep his squad in line to avoid it happening whenever possible.

But they hadn't been given a choice this time.

Taking a deep breath, Don stood up and walked out of the office.

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"Novak."

She recognized the voice immediately and stopped in her tracks. She turned around fast, unable to help the look of surprise on her face.

Haskins eyed her coolly as he strode across the marble corridor toward her. He didn't seem to even notice the busy rush of others around him.

"Dwight," she regarded him warily, staying where she was and allowing him to catch up with her. "Is there a meeting or something I don't know about?" She tried not to sound as confused as she felt at seeing him but knew right away that she had failed.

"Didn't you get my message?" he asked. She gave him a blank look and he furrowed his brow. "I left a message with a secretary this morning to let you know I was on my way back here to lend my services to Mr. Madison personally."

_Aw, damn it. _

She couldn't stop the petulant thought from popping into her head. That stupid phone message…the one still laying on her desk that she hadn't looked at yet.

That figured.

Casey nodded quickly, trying to play off her disgust with herself.

"Oh, right…yeah," she said. "Yeah, I got it…sorry, I'm just a little distracted today. I had a big meeting this morning."

He stared at her as if he could care less what she was saying and she felt her face flush angrily.

"Right," he said dismissively, shrugging. "Well, then we're on the same page. So if you'll excuse me, I have a client to see to. I assume he's with the Sex Crimes squad at the moment?"

He began walking toward the elevator even as he spoke, knowing he was right, and pressed the button. When he turned back toward her, the smile he gave her made her want to slug him.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you shortly," he said cunningly as the elevator doors opened.

He stepped inside and smiled again as the doors swallowed him.

Gritting her teeth, Casey continued walking back toward her office.

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Her nails tapped across the desk absently as she cradled the phone against her ear.

"Hello?"

"Maureen?" Kathy started in surprise at hearing her oldest daughter pick up the phone. "What are you doing there?"

"Nice to hear from you too," the young woman said with amusement. Kathy winced with embarrassment but her daughter just laughed. "My last class was cancelled…you think I just want to hang around the dorm all afternoon?"

She smirked. "I think you're looking for a free meal," she teased dryly.

"Well…" Maureen trailed off cunningly and she chuckled.

"Uh-huh," she said, laughing. "Well, I was calling to talk to Liz, but since you're there you can just give her the message." She leaned back in her chair. "I talked to Olivia a few hours ago. We're going to see if your dad is up for company tonight." She heard the delighted gasp that her daughter couldn't hold back. "So if you want to talk to your brother and sisters about getting the-"

"It's done," Maureen interrupted excitedly. Kathy couldn't help but laugh. Her daughter sounded like she was 12 years old again. "We've got it ready…we just weren't sure when…" She trailed off awkwardly for a minute. "But yeah…everything's there." Her voice turned excited again. "Oh, Mom, I hope he likes it. Do you think he'll like it? Do you think-?"

"Honey." She could hear the anticipation in her daughter's voice and cut in as gently as she could. "Maureen…I don't want you getting your hopes up too soon, okay, honey? Nothing is definite yet." The pain in her heart made it hard to speak. "There's a good possibility that he _won't_ be up to it."

There was silence on the other end and it made the pain worse.

"Baby…" She was nearly choking on tears now in her desperation. "You're father loves you." She swallowed. "He loves you more than anything. If it doesn't work out right now, please remember that it's not anything to do with you guys." Her voice began to shake. "Tell me you understand that, Maureen. Please tell me."

The young woman leaned against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes against the tears welling up. She bit her lip and inhaled shakily.

"It's okay, Mom," she managed, swallowing. "We know…of course we know. We're not going to be upset if he doesn't want to. Please don't let him think we're going to be upset, okay? Tell him he can take as long as he needs to…we don't mind. Tell him that, okay?"

Kathy found herself speechless at the maturity and compassion that she was hearing from her oldest child. She had never really realized just how much of each her daughter had until just then.

"Of course I'll tell him," she replied after a minute. She bit her lip to get her emotions under control, but just as she was about to continue speaking she heard the other line beeping and remembered where she was. "Honey, I have to go...listen, I'm going over there after I get off. I'll call to let you guys know what's going to happen then, alright?"

"Sure," Maureen answered quickly. "That's fine."

"Okay, bye, sweetie," she said in a rush, hurrying to switch over the line.

"Oh, Mom?"

Her daughter's voice was faint from the receiver as she was about to push the button and Kathy answered hurriedly.

"Yeah?"

There a slight pause.

"Make sure you tell Daddy…" Maureen swallowed. "Tell him how much we miss him…and tell him that we love more than anything too."

The tears made Kathy choke and she had to take a breath when they slipped out.

"I will," she managed softly.

Her daughter hung up and she did the same, the call waiting suddenly not even registering anymore.

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"Wait, hold on."

Fin paused with his hand on the door, about to step into the room where Haskins and the suspect were sitting inside waiting on them, and faced his partner warily.

He couldn't deny that the sight of John coming into the squad room that morning had made him see red. The fury and disgust he felt with him had not gone away just because they hadn't been around each other for a while and that first glimpse had his blood already boiling.

Somehow, they had made it through the day in relative ease. They had managed to avoid speaking or working with one another and had kept themselves busy with separate assignments. He was just starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to get through the day without snapping.

And then Cragen had called them in to his office and that thought had gone straight to Hell.

He was already stressing over having his turn with this little shit...adding John to the mix and being informed that they were now assigned as the primary for interrogation certainly wasn't going to make it any easier.

But he had already screwed up once. He'd sooner shoot someone himself than get stuck slaving on desk duty again, so like it or not this was his only alternative.

It didn't mean that they had to be on speaking terms, though. So far as he was concerned, right now the partner he was facing was nothing but another dismissive thought in his mind.

"What?" he asked, not bothering to hide his snarl.

Munch stood a few feet away with a pained expression on his face. "Fin, I can't work like this. I want us to be back to normal," he said. His voice was almost desperate. "Please….what is it going to take for us to do that?"

His partner didn't even blink and John felt his heart sink at the hard look that remained on his face.

"I've got a job to do," he answered harshly. His voice was biting and he didn't care. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd stop wasting time and do yours." He saw the hurt look slowly cross John's face and felt the disgust rise again. "Otherwise I can get someone else who will."

He turned again and entered the interrogation room without a second glance in John's direction.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

With everything that she was thinking about, collecting her daily mail had been so insignificant that she had actually forgotten about it. She didn't even realize it until the super had called that morning to let her know that her box was stuffed and the postman was unable to deliver the day's arrivals to her.

Not about to get into specifics with the man, Olivia simply told him that she was unable to leave her apartment at the moment and that she would make arrangements to have it picked up immediately by one of her neighbors. She was friendly with the young woman living a few doors down and had asked her on occasion to pick up her mail before when she was unable to be home.

She was sitting on the floor against the couch, watching afternoon soaps with the volume turned low, when there was a knock on her door. Elliot had been napping for almost an hour even though he had sworn earlier that he wasn't tired.

Getting to her feet, Olivia checked the peephole and saw a small mountain of mail beside the door.

_Damn, _she thought as she opened the door. _It hasn't been **that **long since the last time the mail was picked up...has it?_

She was shocked to find four issues of _People_ magazine amidst the junk mail and bills. The earliest one dated back to the week before Christmas.

She knew that her neighbor had gotten the mail for her at least once while she was at the hospital…she had gone to see the super after realizing that she hadn't thought to cancel it and had been informed that it was being taken care of.

_That was…_She thought back intently. _What…mid-December? _

Her stomach dropped.

It was. She had approached him that night Kathy had convinced her to go home and get a shower.

The first night Elliot had spent away from his abductors.

Jesus Christ.

Her vision was blurred as she fumbled with shaking hands through the rest of the pile, her throat closing slowly.

Credit card statements. Phone, electric, and cable bills for the month of December. Rent for the month of January. Coupons from the local grocery store that were expired.

She picked up the magazines and sorted frantically until she found the most current date. Tears blurred her vision as she did the math in her head.

Six weeks.

It had been six weeks since the night they had found him on the beach.

Six weeks ago they had freed him from one hell…and now he was living in another.

The hell of a victim.

Wetness spilled onto her cheeks and she hung her head painfully. The mail dropped listlessly to the counter with a limp hand.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Ok, well then-" The sound of the phone ringing inside the office made him cut off quickly. Cragen held up a finger to the detective. "Hold that thought…"

He turned and rushed through the open door, snatching up the receiver on the fourth ring.

"Yeah," he answered hurriedly.

"Captain Cragen?"

"Yes?" he repeated, this time more cautiously at the female voice.

"It's Doctor Olivet," she clarified. "Is this a bad time? I can call back."

Don was surprised to hear from her…but even more surprised to feel a pang of guilt in his chest. It was gone before he even had a chance to think about it.

"What-" he said, slightly distracted, and shook his head quickly. "No, no…not at all." He composed himself quickly, coming around the desk. "How can I help you?"

He sat down in his chair.

"How is Detective Stabler doing?" she asked.

He felt his stomach rise.

"Uh-" he stammered, swallowing. "Um…he-he's…"

_Christ, I don't even know. _

Elliot had been out of the hospital for almost a week. God….a _week…_and he hadn't called them. Not one time.

His breakfast came into his throat.

Doctor Olivet continued speaking, but he couldn't hear anything she said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Mommy!"

The delighted squeal made her laugh out loud as her daughter came flying toward her, her sneakers kicking up sand.

Melinda reached her arms out and caught Kayla in a swinging hug, smiling widely.

"Hey, baby!" she said. She set her down and kissed her, tugging on her messy curls affectionately.

"I thought school wasn't over yet," Kayla said, looking around in confusion. Then her gaze suddenly became panicked. "Mommy…it's not dentist time again, is it?"

Melinda laughed again, unable to help it. She hadn't even thought about it, but it made sense that Kayla would suddenly get nervous upon seeing her. Mike was always the one who got her at the end of the day…the only time she ever came to pick up her daughter from school was when she had a dentist or doctor's appointment.

"No, Bear," she said excitedly, stooping in front of her. "I got to go home early today." She smiled widely. "Why don't we go get some ice cream…you want to?"

Kayla nodded excitedly. Melinda reached out to take her hand.

"Let's go get your stuff," she said, as they walked back toward the playground where the class was playing.

"Mommy," Kayla said, pulling on her hand. Melinda looked down to see her daughter staring intently back up at her. "How come you got to go home early?"

She stared down into the innocent brown eyes and swallowed.

Instead of a response, Melinda simply held her hand tighter and kept walking.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He shook his head and turned his face into the back of the couch away from her.

Olivia bit her lip and fought back a wave of despair. She swallowed, pushing herself further up towards the couch so she could reach him.

"Elliot," she murmured, gently laying her hands on his shoulders. She could feel his back trembling. "Can you try just a little bit? I don't want you to get sick, honey…" Her voice was desperate. "You've got to have something in your stomach."

"No." His voice was muffled by the cushion but she could hear the tears in it anyway. "Go away. Just leave me alone, Olivia…please leave me alone."

Her heart felt like it was being ripped into shreds, but she swallowed bravely and sighed inwardly. She leaned forward to press a lingering, gentle kiss to the back of his head before standing up.

She picked up the full glass of Ensure from the coffee table beside the couch and walked back into the kitchen. Tears blurred her vision as she put it back into its spot in the refrigerator where it had been all day.

"No luck?" Kathy asked quietly from the table behind her, her voice sympathetic.

Swallowing and blinking, Olivia shook her head slightly as she closed the refrigerator door and waited until she was sure she had herself composed to before turning around.

It must not have worked, because the other woman's face drew up painfully.

"You tried, Olivia," she said. Her voice was strained with despair and Olivia knew it hurt her just as much. "That's all you can do right now." Her lips quivered slightly. "That's all any of us can do right now."

She shook her head and came over to the table, sitting down heavily across from the blonde in defeat. Her eyes were hollow.

"I called Kathleen," Kathy said softly after a minute. Both of them were looking at points in front of them without meeting the other's eyes. "Told her tonight wasn't a good time."

The tears rushed up into Olivia's throat again but she shoved them down harshly, nodding slightly.

Pain-filled silence circled around the two women like a fog. Olivia finally spoke after several moments, keeping her gaze averted.

"I don't know how to get him to eat." Kathy was startled to hear a sob threatening and looked up in alarm. Olivia's face was starting to twitch as she stared at her hands in front of her. "He had a sip of Ensure for the first time in four days this morning and gagged so hard he almost puked." She shook her head. "He won't touch it."

Kathy looked at her carefully. "Well, remember," she said hesitantly. "Remember…the doctor said it was going to take a while." She bit her lip uncertainly, not wanting the other woman to think she was being patronized. "Do…do you want me to try?"

Olivia swallowed and shrugged, turning her head away as tears began rolling down her cheeks. Her face flushed.

The ringing of the phone startled both of them and made Olivia jump. She swiped her face quickly before hurrying to her feet and striding towards the bedroom to answer it.

Kathy pursed her lips and slowly went to the refrigerator.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her voice was weary and small when she picked up, startling him. It was so uncharacteristic that he actually forgot why he was calling for a minute.

"Olivia," Don said finally, shaking himself. "Hi."

She returned the greeting and then there was silence again.

"It-it's Cragen," he continued, wondering why in the world he had said that when it was obvious that she recognized his voice. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling overwhelming nervousness and not knowing why. "How are you doing?"

"Fine."

Her voice was monotone and emotionless, as if she were reading a script.

More silence.

Cragen bit his lip again.

A total lie, no doubt. Olivia Benson was never afraid to get right to the point during a phone call. He had never, ever had silence on the line when talking to her before.

"Well…good. That's good." He swallowed in anticipation before taking the plunge. "How-how's Elliot?"

He listened to her exhale loudly and he could sense her distress. His heart began to race in panic. Several seconds passed.

"Olivia?" he repeated hesitantly.

She blew out a breath shakily into his ear. "He's…" Her voice wavered and then cracked. She fell silent again.

And then he heard her crying.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He followed a few feet behind Fin into the squad room wearily. His partner sat down at the desk and began clacking angrily at the computer without giving him a second thought. John eyed the empty chair across from him for a moment before turning in the opposite direction toward the coffee pot.

He wasn't thirsty and he definitely didn't want coffee right now. He was starving but he was so wound up that he couldn't fathom being able to concentrate long enough to place an order in or walk somewhere.

John leaned his arms on the table next to the Styrofoam cups, stirrers, and sugar packets with a frustrated sigh.

Even with Dwight Haskins sitting like a bulldog next to him, watching and waiting for a coercion tactic or manipulation, the kid hadn't said a word for almost twenty minutes.

Then suddenly, he spoke for the first time since being in their custody

"_Can I have a Coke or a root beer or something?"_

John had almost launched himself across the room and punched him. If not for the circumstances….damn it, he would have.

Cragen had finally pulled them out about an hour ago and the kid went back to the lockup. Casey was pissed and beside herself at the same time, and he didn't blame her.

They had failed. This guy was going to get sent back to Suffolk County and charged with breaking and entering.

John sighed again and hung his head. His temples were throbbing with brutal force, making him almost dizzy. Stress headache. He'd been living with them now for almost forty years and they were a pain in the ass.

He walked to his locker and wrenched it open, fumbling for the bottle of Advil he knew was in there somewhere. He wrapped his hand around the container and walked into the hallway toward the soda machine, popping the top open.

He hit the button for a Sprite and nothing happened. He hit it again and nothing happened.

The words **SOLD OUT** scrawled across the change screen and he cursed.

"Figures," he muttered, trying another button.

Every single soda was sold out except for Coca-Cola. Scowling, John pressed the button and heard the loud _clang_ as it dispensed. He hated Coke.

_I heard somewhere that taking medicine with Coke is like eating pop rocks and drinking Coke. _He eyed the can warily and then the pills. _Is that **really** an urban legend made up by kids? How does anyone really know? _

He didn't know where the thought came from, but suddenly the voice of that kid was in his head again.

"_Can I have a Coke or root beer or something?"_

His heart was starting to pound so hard he could feel it in his fingers. He felt himself getting dizzy again and began to get nervous. Was he passing out?

"_Can I have a Coke or root beer or something?"_

"_Can I have a Coke or-"_

Wait a minute.

He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, thinking about it.

Wait a minute…

"Holy shit," he breathed when he suddenly hit on it. His mouth dropped. "Holy shit!"

He took off running back towards the squad room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She swallowed and exhaled, wiping her face.

"And..." He spoke gently now, his tone almost paternal. "She's willing to talk to him, Olivia. She said she'd be happy to."

She sighed heavily, drawing her legs up to her chest and sinking deeper into her bed where she was sitting. She moved to cradle the phone further up her ear and felt instant relief from where the receiver had been pressed into her neck for the last fifteen minutes.

_A **shrink**?_

_He's not ready to talk about it to a shrink. It'll destroy him. _

The tears continued flowing freely.

_God, I'd hate to see him hurt worse._

"Olivia?"

Cragen's voice startled her and she shook her head quickly, realizing he had asked her a question.

"Sorry, what?" she said.

"How do you think he'd feel about the idea?" he repeated.

She fell silent for a long time.

"Captain," she finally managed. "I…I don't know. He's so…he's so…" Her voice broke. She couldn't even think of a word.

There was another minute of silence.

"Well, he doesn't have to decide right now," he said, trying to sound upbeat for her sake even though he was secretly feeling worse than when he'd called. "Just let him know she's here."

Olivia swallowed again, feeling sick.

"I will," she said weakly.

There was an awkward silence for a moment and Don cleared his throat.

"Okay, well…" he said hesitantly. "I just wanted to see how you guys were doing…I won't keep you." He took a breath slowly. "Make sure you tell him…whenever he's up for a visit, we can't wait to see him."

She nodded. "Yeah," she said shakily. "Yeah…of course. Of course I will."

They hung up and she put the receiver back with shaking hands. She felt like she was under water as she walked through the kitchen and into the doorway of the living room.

Kathy was sitting on the couch beside Elliot, holding the glass in one hand while stroking his hair with the other. She was smiling widely.

Elliot was drinking the Ensure.

Olivia blinked a few times and then turned back into the kitchen, barely managing to lean against the counter.

She buried her face in her hands and cried hard.


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Detective Jeff Bates was coming out of the squad room as he was rushing back in and almost plowed in to him. Startled, the other man stopped in his tracks with a look of surprise.

John was sincerely apologetic, as he hadn't intended on nearly bulldozing anyone in his haste, but was so intent that he didn't even stop. He continued quickly across the room, not noticing the looks of annoyance and curiosity from other detectives, and straight for Cragen's office. It didn't even register that the desk he shared with Fin was now empty.

He burst through the door without announcing himself.

"Where's the crime scene evidence?" he demanded.

The captain was standing up behind his desk and in the middle of a sentence. He cut himself off and looked at the detective in disbelief and anger.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow warningly.

"The crime scene evidence," John barreled on, noticing his partner standing by the wall, apparently in the middle of a conversation he had just interrupted. He strode up to the desk and placed his hands right in the center, leaning toward the captain intently. "The stuff from Niagara…where is it?"

Cragen just stared at him incredulously and then glanced at Fin. The black man shrugged dismissively, looking disgusted by the other detective's actions, and said nothing. He looked back at John with rapidly growing anger.

"Why do you want to know, John?" he asked.

"Please," he persisted. "It's important Captain….I need to see it." He looked at him urgently again when the captain said nothing and his voice rose a fraction. "_Please_!"

The captain stared at him again and then raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Novak has it," he said.

The detective whirled around and flew back out the door almost before he had finished answering.

Don stared after him in disbelief for a moment before jerking his head toward Fin. He motioned with a quick nod for him to go after his partner.

Fin looked at Cragen in protest and the captain narrowed his eyes.

His message was clear and it was made obvious when the detective shook his head angrily before following in John's tracks.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She sighed lightly and paused, racking her brain as to where else the file could possibly be. Biting her lip, she gently pushed away the stack in front of her and bent down to open the bottom desk drawer.

"Casey…"

The urgent voice combined with the explosive plowing through her office door made Casey jump violently and bang her knee hard on the desk.

"Ow!" she hissed painfully, rubbing her knee as she looked angrily at the intruder as he rushed towards her. "John, what the hell are-?"

"Where's the crime scene evidence?" he asked anxiously.

She opened her mouth, ready to lay into him for interrupting her, and then saw Fin in the doorway as John moved further inside. Casey looked at the other detective in bewilderment but he just shook his head angrily.

"Get it out," she heard John say from behind her. "Get it out and let me see it…I need to see it."

When she turned back toward Munch, he was poking around her desk and moving her chair, preparing to look underneath. Her patience, minimal at best to begin with, snapped fast and hard.

Her steps were slow and long as she strode over towards him and pushed her way between him and the chair.

"Stop," she said forcefully, blocking him with her body. He looked ready to bark at her and she clenched her teeth angrily. "I'm not doing anything until you start telling me what the hell's going on…and why the _hell_ you think you can just bust in here unannounced to start giving me orders!"

It wasn't until her rant was through that she took notice of how sincerely distressed the man looked. There was such deep anxiety in his eyes that she felt her heart start to pound instinctively without even knowing the situation.

"The night we found Elliot…" He began to speak with trepidation and paused, clenching his teeth before trying again. "The only reason we were able to find him at all was because somebody _in that group_ called the police."

Casey felt her breath catch, like she had just been punched in the gut. Her eyes widened as shock, disbelief, and then anger surged through her.

She stared at him and then jerked her eyes towards Fin for confirmation. His expression of pain made her panic.

"What…why didn't I know about this?" Her emotions began bubbling and she found herself spouting before she even realized it. "Why the _hell_ didn't I know about this? God damn it! Do you _realize _just how much this screws with the _case_?"

Her breath was coming rapidly now as anxiety began overwhelming and she started rambling nervously.

"Jesus…you waited all this time to tell me this..." She looked sick. "Jesus… Haskins is going to go through the roof…why wasn't _he_ made aware of this? Why-"

"Casey!" John barked harshly, cutting her off and making her start in shock. "Stop…just _stop_-" His breath wheezed and he had to pause again, shaking his head frantically. "We have to hear that call…I think this guy is the one who made it."

She was silent, her expression a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she was fighting herself inwardly.

The office was quiet for a few tense moments as Casey and John stared at each other, but it was Fin who broke the silence.

They hadn't noticed him suddenly advance forward to come next to them. John turned instinctively and was startled by the look he saw on his partner's face. Fin was studying him like he had never seen him before.

"Why do you say that?" he asked hesitantly.

John swallowed, glancing between Casey and his partner for a moment before turning his attention back.

"The kid asked for a soda," he began warily, checking to see if Fin was indeed interesting in hearing him. "A' Coke' or a root beer." He put exaggerated stress on the last 'k' sound in the word 'coke' and rushed the 'or', making it seem like two words almost came together.

Fin scrunched his face into an irritated scowl. "And that tells us…what?" he asked dryly.

"Think about the call," John rushed on, his words becoming excitable and rushed as he gave it even more thought. "The guy said the address was 'Kroaker' lane." He again put the same exaggerated stress on the last 'k' of the word and bit his lip. "'_Kroaker'… 'Coke or'…_"

He trailed off self-consciously, seeing both of them looking at him like he was nuts.

"Guys, I _know_ it sounds crazy," he pleaded desperately, shaking his head. "But just the way he said it…" He shrugged defensively. "It's him…I know it is."

Fin stared at him for a long moment, almost like he was trying to access him. His eyes crinkled in distress as he stared directly into John's.

They held gazes for a long moment and then he slowly turned toward Casey, biting his lip.

"We should listen to the tape," he said.

He wasn't looking at his partner as he spoke and so the look of gratitude went unnoticed. But the expression on Fin's face made him feel something that he thought he couldn't anymore.

Hope.

But then he saw the look of anxiety on Casey's face and grew nervous again.

"There wasn't a tape included with the evidence," she said, biting her lip. "It was just tangibles collected from the beach….John, I don't have any tape."

He had been so pumped up with adrenaline over his idea that he had never considered the possibility of her not having it. His heart suddenly began to crush in despair.

_No. No…_

Fin spoke almost before she was done, turning towards him. "Who was it that got the call?" he asked, racking his brain frantically. He looked at John, seeing him thinking hard as well. His mind was suddenly blank. "Damn it…."

He bit his lip in frustration as he clearly saw the memory of himself standing with Cragen, John, and Olivia in an unfamiliar squad room going over travel coordinates.

"Cannon," Munch blurted out suddenly, snapping his fingers at the memory. Fin whipped his head toward him. "Cannon….Staten Island." His eyes grew wide with recognition and he nodded, knowing instantly that John was right.

They both looked at Casey urgently. She bit her lip and checked her watch.

"Get the soda can," she said quickly. "We'll need to get it matched to the DNA in the rape kit in order to have legal grounds to make an arrest and we have to do it before he's discharged in the morning."

They didn't move, still looking uncertain, and she carried on in a rush.

"Worry about the tape once we've got him in legal custody." She nodded urgently. "Go get that can. _Now_."

The two men looked at each other and strode toward the door almost at the same second.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She paused and slowly dragged her eyes to the side.

Giggles immediately erupted by her elbow.

"Ready?" she asked dramatically, purposefully dragging out the word to tease her. This was her favorite part and her mother knew it, delighting in torturing her.

Kayla gripped the side of the book impatiently, her grin wide and gleeful. "Mom!" she protested, laughing. She bounced impatiently. "Do it…come on!"

"You help me," Melinda said quickly, looking beside her.

Her daughter nodded, bouncing again and laughing. She laughed too, unable to hold it anymore.

"Ready?" she asked again.

This time she barreled on, knowing she'd pushed the limit. She looked beside her and grinned. They began chanting together.

"Or I'll huff….and I'll puff…"

Kayla stopped abruptly and looked over at her excitedly. Melinda scrunched up her face dramatically and puckered her lips in preparation. She took a deep breath and made her voice as deep and gruff as possible.

"And I'll _blow_ your house down!" she bellowed out from her stomach.

Mother and daughter both burst out laughing before the sentence was done and for several minutes neither could speak.

Melinda could feel her face aching from her huge smile. Sniffing and catching her breath, she shook her head in amusement and closed the book. She never bothered to read the entire book…all Kayla ever wanted was to hear the "big, bad, wolf" imitation from her mother.

"The end," she finished.

"Again, again!" Kayla chanted, bouncing up and down on the mattress with her butt. "Do it again!"

The wide smile slipped out once more before she could stop it but she struggled to contain it.

"Nope," she said, scooting off of the bed and straightening the pink comforter. "Time for bed."

Her daughter looked at her pleadingly without moving.

"Kayla," she warned, becoming stern. She raised an eyebrow warningly.

The girl pouted but reluctantly rolled over under the covers.

Melinda smiled and stroked her curls. "That's my girl," she said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A flash from behind his eyelids startled him into awareness and his eyes opened.

Elliot looked around to see he was alone in the living room. His heart started hammering and he tried to swallow, discovering his throat was bone-dry.

He felt himself start to shake and inhaled desperately, trying as hard as he could to calm himself down.

_One Mississippi._

_Two Mississippi._

Another flash from the window and then he heard the rumble of thunder.

He swallowed again and hugged the rabbit tightly against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut into the side of the pillow.

_Olivia…_

He clutched the rabbit hard, forcing himself not to scream for her. His body broke into a cold sweat as he trembled uncontrollably and he buried his face into the pillow.

_One Mississippi._

_Two Mississippi…_

Another flash of lightening made him jump. The rain began pounding and he began sobbing, unable to help it.

But he kept quiet.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Forensic analyst Derek Stine was not happy to see them when they arrived at the lab. Fin didn't blame him. If he had been roused from sleep at one in the morning to go to work off the clock, he'd be pissy too.

"If I'd wanted to work cop hours," he said sourly, looking up from his work across the room to glare at the two detectives, "I wouldn't have spent five years in tech school."

"Sorry, Derek," Fin said apologetically as they moved around the otherwise desolate laboratory towards where he sat looking in a microscope. "We hadn't planned on doing this, trust me."

The wiry man shook his head wryly and turned his attention back to the lenses, twisting the knobs. "Nice coffee stains, Munch," he cracked without looking up.

John looked down at his white shirt instinctively and was surprised to see splashes of dark. He hadn't even noticed them before now. His cheeks flushed as he raised his head and saw Fin looking at him in amused disgust.

"So you're not the only one having a hard night," he said defensively, scowling at both of them. "Get over it."

"Someone's cranky," the man said without humor. "Ever heard 'don't bite the hand that feeds you'? I'm doing you a favor here, you know."

"And we can't thank you enough," Fin cut in quickly. "You're saving our ass, Stine."

John glared at him indignantly. Fin returned the glare with chastising venom and he scowled again, looking back to the analyst.

"Alright," Stine said, sliding the stool he sat in back from the table. He stepped away from the stool with piece of paper in his hand.

They followed him over across the room to a computer. Derek sat down and placed the paper beside him, talking over his shoulder as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Here we go," he began. "A code from sample 'A', taken from your rape kit…"

He gestured to the dish furthest to the left with one shoulder without breaking his stride. As they watched, a picture of a DNA strand appeared on the computer screen. Stine continued typing, glancing at the paper again.

"And a code from sample 'B'," he concluded. "Taken from your soda can."

They held their breaths while he made a few more keystrokes and a second picture appeared next to the first. Stine tapped the enter key three times to make the images larger.

It didn't matter. As soon as the two images came together, Stine swiveled around to look at them seriously. Munch and Fin were looking at each other with the same look of urgency in their eyes.

The two strands were identical.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When her eyes opened and she rolled over to look at the clock, Olivia was disgusted to see that it was just past six am.

The night hadn't been friendly to her. She had laid awake for hours, replaying the phone call in her head and the words spoken.

_He won't want to talk about it. She'll have to force it out of him. That's the last thing he needs. _

_They mean well…but what if it just makes things worse? _

She padded into the kitchen and quietly opened the refrigerator, mindful of her sleeping partner in the next room. She took out the jug of orange juice and set it on the counter.

She had just eased open the cabinet to retrieve a glass when she heard a wet sniffle followed by a cough. Her brow furrowed worriedly and she took her hand away, turning to walk into the living room.

She was shocked when she stepped onto the carpet and saw Elliot sitting up. Even from the distance, she could see his puffy face as he hugged his rabbit and cried into the fur.

"Elliot?" she said softly in concern.

She flinched when he jumped, his face flying up towards her voice. His eyes were painfully bloodshot.

"Oh, honey…" she breathed in horror, coming to the couch.

He looked like he hadn't slept at all the whole night. She sat down and reached her arms toward him. He inhaled tearfully, his expression distraught.

"Come here, sweetheart," Olivia coaxed sympathetically. She gently gripped his shoulders, pulling him to her and scooting forward to meet him. "Come here."

She could see his exhaustion when he came to her without hesitation, burying his face in her shoulder. She hugged him warmly, her lips pursing sadly when she saw he had brought the rabbit against her chest with him.

"What's the matter?" she murmured softly, stroking his hair. "Couldn't sleep?"

He sighed tiredly, the sound almost like a whimper, but it was more than obvious in the pliability of his body. She couldn't hide her bewilderment even as she was encouraging him to snuggle against her. When she had left to go to her bed the night before, he had been sound asleep.

"Did you have a bad dream?" she prodded gently, stroking the back of his neck.

He shivered and moved further against her with another sleepy sigh, but said nothing. Olivia bit her lip in defeat and didn't press further.

_What happened?_

She shifted back against the couch and encouraged him to stretch out a little. Her hand reached over to the blanket he had slept with and dragged it up over his back.

She gently reached between them to pull the rabbit out, pressing it into his chest. He sighed and turned his face out, eyelids heavy and struggling. "There you go." She stroked soothingly over his temple. "I've got you, sweetie."

He dropped off almost before she finished speaking, limp and heavy against her lap.

Olivia rested her hands on his back with a quiet sigh and leaned her head against the back of the couch.

Silence quickly loomed up to surround her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The tall chain-link fence behind the school was hardly latched. He pushed it open just far enough to slip through and it squeaked loudly as he closed it behind him.

The air was freezing. He shivered inside his hooded sweatshirt as he looked around. A few women were walking around the track, but the field was deserted.

Dickie sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets as he started across the grass.

His black Vans squished with each step across the soggy field. He glanced down idly and wiggled his big toe into the small hole that had eroded into the lining.

_Man, how long have I had these? _

It had to have been at least four years. Tony Hawk had been the idol of every guy he knew when he was nine and he had spent almost an entire summer in bandages after attempting to do tricks with his skateboard.

His mom had tried to throw them away once when he was at school and he had cried. His dad had dragged the trash can in from the side of the curb, dumped the entire thing out onto the lawn and dug through it to rescue them at 2:30 in the morning, still in his clothes from work. They were his favorites. Even now, so worn that they almost needed new soles, no one could convince him to buy new ones.

The grass was soaked but he didn't care. He flopped down on the grass with a sigh and stared at the sky.

He had been so excited at the prospect of finally getting to see his dad that he almost couldn't contain it. He made himself cool it and not be selfish when he learned that it had a good chance of not happening….but he couldn't deny being crushed when he found out it wouldn't.

He had kept his game face on, though, and sucked it up in the presence of the others. They'd wait for him. No matter how long it took…they'd wait for him.

But it hadn't been enough to keep the tears at bay when he was alone in his bed that night.

_I miss you, Dad. I miss you so much. _

He could imagine his mom was most likely awake now and wondering where he'd gone. He could call her so she wouldn't worry, but at the moment he didn't care.

For the moment, he let himself get lost in the magnificent blue of the clear sky above him.

_Remember when we used to try to find shapes in the clouds? _

He let the tears roll over the sides of his face without moving from his position.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She drummed her fingers against cherry oak furnishing and waited.

"Jackson, Staten Island Homicide," a man's voice said into the phone after a few moments.

Casey started and sat up.

"Oh-yes," she said awkwardly. "Yes….is Sergeant Cannon available, please?"

"He's out right now," Jackson said, as if he were rehearsing a script.

She blinked in surprise. "Oh," she stammered, flushing at the meek tone of her voice. Scolding herself, she forced herself to speak authoritatively. "Then I need to speak to the commanding officer in charge, please."

"May I ask who is calling?" The man sounded edgy now.

"Casey Novak," she said matter-of-factly. "From the District Attorney's Office."

There was a long pause.

"One moment," Jackson said, sounding reluctant.

"Thank you," she said.

She was answered by a series of intermittent beeps and blew her breath out through her cheeks. Her fingers began drumming again.

"Messing," a gruff voice greeted abruptly.

She was startled by the greeting and shook herself.

"This is Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak," she said again. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Captain Alexander Messing," he answered cautiously.

"Captain," she said cordially. "I apologize for the disturbance, but I need to speak with you about an issue involving a sergeant in your charge, Sergeant James Cannon."

"What about him?" Messing asked immediately. "Is he in some kind of legal trouble?"

"Not at all, sir," she assured. "I just need to ask him a few questions. Is there a way to reach him at home?"

"I'm going to need some type of identification," the man said. "I'm afraid I can't give out that information over the phone."

"I've sent a copy of my records directly to the precinct, Captain," she said quickly, anticipating the issue. "I've also included a contact number for Arthur Branch…it should be arriving to your email at any moment."

Messing paused a moment.

"He's in court this afternoon," he finally said. "I'll tell him to contact you as soon as he arrives back."

She clenched her teeth.

"That's fine, sir," she said with a slight edge in her voice. "However, you need to know this is an urgent matter and that if I don't hear from him before the end of the day I will keep calling until someone gets him to the phone."

"I'll make it my number one priority, ma'am," Messing said, sounding irritated.

"You do that, Captain," she said with false cheeriness. "Thank you for your time. Have a nice day."

She slammed the phone down hard in anger.

"Damn it!" she hissed, rubbing her forehead wearily.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She heard the door slam and furrowed her brow, walking towards the front hall.

"Hey!" she called out, seeing her son darting up the stairs. He turned toward her with and expression of guilt that she knew well and Kathy narrowed her eyes. "Where have you been?"

Dickie shrugged casually. "Nowhere, Mom," he said, coming back down. "Just went for a walk…it was kind of early when I left and I wasn't' sure if you were up yet."

He watched her as she looked him over and felt his throat tighten. He'd never really seen his dad in action before, but in his opinion, his mom could be a detective herself. Some of her expressions scared the hell out of him and made him want to confess to whatever he'd done just so she'd stop looking at him that way.

Like this one.

Kathy nodded sarcastically, not believing him for a minute.

His pocket held no cell phone, he wore no Ipod, and he had no house keys hanging from his belt that he and his friends always tried to pass off as car keys so that people would think they were old enough to drive.

He never took two steps out of the house without all three in reach and the last time she had suggested going for a walk he had about had a coronary.

"_You and your friends walk around the neighborhood all the time," she'd said in confusion. _

"_No, we don't," Dickie had said, mortified. He sounded as if she had just suggested he wear women's clothes to school. "We don't go for 'walks'. We **hang out**." _

He continued staring at her as her eyes came back to his face. Her jaw tightened and he braced himself.

But he was shocked by her next move.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes and nodded.

"Oh," she said simply.

And she walked away, leaving him standing stunned at the bottom of the staircase.

No scolding, no demands for him to tell the truth…but the ache he was feeling in his heart right now were worse than both. He swallowed and continued up the stairs without speaking.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Olivia?"

She had been sitting beside him quietly for the last half hour. He had woken up saying he was thirsty, but had yet to touch the water or glass or Ensure she had brought to him.

When she had come into the living room, her heart had broken into pieces at the sight of him sitting huddled under the blanket, clutching the rabbit. She had seen tears slipping out the closer she got to him but he hadn't spoken. In fact, he seemed to withdrawal more when she sat down.

Startled to hear his voice, her head whipped around a little quicker than necessary. He was huddled under his blanket with the rabbit, both of them appearing swallowed. The tear tracks had dried but his eyes were brimming again as he stared toward the window.

"Yeah?" she answered softly.

His throat contracted visibly and his voice threatened to break.

"Can…can we go outside?"

The question caught her by complete surprise.

"Go outside?" she repeated carefully.

Tears spilled out of his eyes. He turned even further toward the window, swallowing.

"Please?" he asked shakily. "It's…so nice. I just…I just want to see the sun."

Her heart slammed against her chest so hard she had to struggle to draw in air and she blinked rapidly. She scooted closer to him, the tears starting to escape.

"Elliot," she said gently, turning his face toward her with her hands. His eyes were shut and his face anguished. "Sweetheart…" She stroked both of his cheeks. "Of course. Of course we can."

She found herself staring into devastated blue and swallowed, nodding as she stroked up into his hair.

"Why don't you drink a little bit of water and I'll get you some warm clothes," she went on. "We'll go for a walk…maybe go to the park, huh? How's that sound?"

He nodded, his face suddenly turning eager. Her face crumbled at his expression but she hugged him quickly before he could see.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John fought the urge to sigh and struggled to continue with his paperwork. Across from him, Fin didn't look up.

The look on Dwight Haskins face that morning had been priceless. He and Fin had arrived at the lockup at eight o'clock on the dot and arrested the kid for rape without letting him leave the cell. The attorney had arrived pitching a fit and John had been almost gleeful in informing the man that he would have plenty of time to speak to the suspect once he was in interrogation.

Casey had been irate when she came down to see Cragen around noon, telling them of her experience with contacting Staten Island about the phone recording. The captain had tried to keep them optimistic by reminding them at least they could breathe easier for the next 48 hours since the kid couldn't go anywhere. They were sure to have the tape by then.

As it turned out….it wasn't as easy as the captain made it seem.

It was almost three, Fin hadn't said two words to him since coming back into squad room, and his body had started to protest being kept up until the crack of dawn in his rush to get the DNA.

And still there was no word from Casey.

He felt his eyes sliding shut and jerked them open again quickly, opening his eyes wide to concentrate.

He had the sudden urge to pray for help. But he didn't know if God would even listen.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dandelions. Big, bright yellow bulbs scattered along the edges of the sidewalk.

Sunshine. Precious, glorious sunshine. He leaned his face toward it and closed his eyes.

The cold air was so refreshing against his skin.

He inhaled deeply with his eyes still closed, leaning back against the chair.

He was vaguely aware of them moving slowly but so overwhelmed with wonderful sensory explosions that he could hardly concentrate.

Finally, he opened his eyes to watch as Olivia led them down the sidewalk.

Then a man was coming towards them.

His heart skipped a beat and he sucked in a breath, stiffening.

_Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God._

He squeezed his eyes shut.

The man continued past them, tucking his newspaper under one arm without glancing in his direction.

Elliot swallowed and struggled to breathe. He suddenly felt dizzy.

_Olivia…_

He bit his lip and forced another breath as she continued pushing the chair. He snuck a look up at her to see her focusing on the street.

_She'll protect you. They won't get to you. She'll protect you._

Two more men were approaching. He squeezed his eyes shut and ducked his head, counting the seconds.

_One Mississippi…two Mississippi…_

His throat was closing.

They were tall…over six feet.

Just like Ethan Jones and Jason Evans.

_Three Mississippi…four Mississippi…_

He choked when he felt their presence next to him and began to tremble.

They passed.

He opened his eyes, feeling tears coming out, and swallowed.

_They could be anywhere…they could be anywhere. How do you know? One of them could be walking behind us right now, getting ready to…_

He gasped for breath and blurrily tried to focus on the dandelions.

The sunlight.

Olivia talking to him as they neared the corner.

But all he could see was the blurry image of a huge crowd coming in their direction. People swarming around and going past.

Elliot ducked his head low, keeping his eyes closed.

_You can do it…you can do it…_

_One Mississippi…_

_Two Mississippi…_

He suddenly saw a pair of jean-clad legs in his line of vision, not two inches from his body. They were standing still.

Waiting.

He vomited onto the sidewalk.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She was watching the clock, her hand on the phone.

It was 3:42. Eight minutes.

It suddenly rang and she jumped.

Casey snatched the receiver up quickly.

"Casey Novak," she answered.

There was a pause and she bit her lip.

_Please…_

"Uh…yes, ma'am." A man's voice came through, sounding somewhat unsure. "This is Sergeant James Cannon. Captain Messing left a message saying-"

The breath came out fast and relieved.

"Yes," she rushed in quickly. "Thank you, Sergeant Cannon, for calling…I was about to call back myself." She heard herself starting to ramble and forced herself to bite her lip. "I'm an Assistant District Attorney-"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I was told." His voice sounded nervous now. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"No," she said. She swallowed and exhaled, trying to calm down. "Sergeant, I work for the Special Victims Unit in Manhattan."

The silence that filled the phone was suddenly deafening.

"This is about Detective Stabler…isn't it?" His tone was heavy and sounded full of dread. Taken by surprise, Casey waited, unsure of what to do. "We were all at the trial, Ms. Novak." His voice was quiet now. "We know who you are. My captain didn't realize it right away…otherwise, he would have-"

"No, don't worry about it," she said, interrupting him. She didn't mean to sound harsh, but was so anxious she couldn't help it. "I need your help, Sergeant."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia was watching the people around them warily and didn't even realize what had happened until she suddenly saw some of them jumping to the side in shock.

"Oh, God," she said, jerking them to a stop.

She hurried towards the front of the chair, savagely pushing into people who were walking around them. Their indignant responses fell on deaf ears as she just shoved them out of her way until she was in front of Elliot.

He was hunched forward and shaking hard.

"Elliot," she gasped, breathing rapidly in panic. She crouched down, trying to avoid the vomit and gripped his shoulders tight. "What's wrong? What's wrong?"

He was crying almost spastically. His eyes flew to hers wildly before he launched forward. She had to jump up slightly to catch his weight in order to keep him from falling straight onto the concrete.

"Are you alright…do you need help?" a man's voice said from above them.

She ignored it, gulping in a breath as her arms came around him automatically. He trembled and collapsed against her, his face pressing into her coat hard.

"S-sorry," he choked painfully. "I-I'm sorry."

He gripped her shoulder with a clenched fist, weeping. Olivia stroked his head and swallowed hard. She hugged him tightly, ignoring the gaping stares of people around them.

"Shh….sweetheart," she said soothingly, rubbing his neck. "What happened?" Their heads were practically touching. She looked up into his eyes, his tears falling onto her because they were so close. "Talk to me, precious."

He couldn't. He just clung to her in a death grip like she was a lifeline.

She felt herself sob and swallowed again.

"You want to back, sweetie?" She rubbed his coat-clad back, wondering if he could feel it, and stroked his face. "Hmm?" She tenderly placed kisses on his face wherever she could reach. "Elliot, we can go home, honey…do you want me to take you home?"

He nodded frantically, his face nuzzled into her coat as he gasped between sobs.

Her heart cracked in half as she hugged him lovingly, caressing his head with her gloved fingers.

"Shh...okay," she soothed, nodding. "It's okay, baby." She dropped her head onto his. "We'll go home. It's okay."

He exhaled loudly, gasping in a breath. She stroked his head and rocked against her body with tears running down her face.


	46. Chapter 46

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to someone special. You know who you are.**

**Though it seems redundant given the story matter, I have to warn that this chapter contains sensitive material. **

"Cragen," he answered.

"Staten Island was able to get the phone call transferred onto a zip file," Casey says without greeting. "I forwarded it to you. Can you check to make sure you can open the attachment?"

Don's hand flew to the mouse instantly.

"Yeah," he said, clicking. "Hang on."

The desktop came out of hibernation mode. Scooting closer to the desk, he quickly typed his password to restore the NYPD homepage and opened his email

**1 NEW MESSAGE.**

He moved the mouse over the icon and clicked. A small window immediately flashed on the lower left hand corner of the screen, labeled "phone call" and including a play button. He clicked on it and turned up the volume.

For a moment, he heard the low buzz of an audible feed and then suddenly a woman's voice spoke clearly.

"Dispatch 13, what is your emergency?"

"I…I need to talk to a cop. It's important."

Pause.

"What is your location, sir?"

"Look, please! I need to talk to a cop."

Don sat still and listened as the entire conversation between the dispatcher and the caller played from his computer monitor speakers. The memory of that night six weeks ago surfaced in his brain as if it had just happened yesterday.

"_We've received some information about Detective Stabler that I think you'll want to hear."_

"_Captain Cragen, um…we've received a call from one of the kidnappers, sir."_

"Captain?"

He started when he heard Casey's voice in his ear. His vision suddenly cleared and he found himself staring at a monitor buzzing with static from the end of the feed.

"Is it there?" she continued.

Cragen shook himself.

"Yeah," he said quickly. "Yeah…I got it. It's all there." He felt his heart starting to pump with adrenaline. "Thank you, Casey."

"Don't thank anyone until we get someone talking," she said dryly. She paused. "So you're set, then? You can work with this?"

Don's eyes traveled up to look out the window at John and Fin, sitting at their desk. He inhaled deeply.

"I hope so," he finally said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She inhaled deeply, the sound audible in the tense silence, but made sure her sigh was soundless. Her hand continued the absent motions across his back as if they were a reflex.

Elliot didn't move from his position next to her. He had his body folded into the back of the couch and was looking out the window with his head turned as if there was a brick wall between them.

He'd had his head down all the way back to the apartment but Olivia still knew he had cried the whole time. It had been more than obvious when she had helped him out of his coat and taken the other layers off for him.

Her heart aching for him, she had immediately prepared herself to give him the bear hug she was sure he would be seeking when she took him to the couch. She was still bewildered as to exactly what had happened, but something out there had scared the wits out of him and she was willing to do anything in the world to make that look go away.

So it had come as a surprise when he had immediately curled in on himself and turned his back to her without a word. She could tell he was still crying for a little while as he kept swiping his arm over his face every few seconds and sniffling.

Her instant urge to move closer and lay her hand on his back had been instinctual. She had held her breath the minute she realized what she had done, but he didn't move away or speak. She took a chance and left it there, desperately wanting him to feel her comfort in any way possible.

The silence was so loud that Olivia could actually hear the tiny ticks made each time the second hand moved on her watch.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

1200 times.

1500 times.

2700 times.

The loud scraping of her neighbor next door shoving his key into the door and cursing as he juggled mail echoed in the hall.

Elliot's reaction was violent as his body jumped and his pulse became rapid. She felt it pounding as the muscles under her hand went rigid. She squeezed his back gently and heard the fear when he exhaled.

Olivia took a breath and sucked in her lip slightly, daring to inch a little further next to his side. She began to open her mouth, unable to bear it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

The anguished whisper was barely audible even with the silence but surprised her so much that she found herself speechless with her mouth still open.

The raw agony she heard hit Olivia like shards of glass in her heart and she sucked in her lip again, this time in attempt to keep the tears from building.

They came anyway. She swallowed hard to force them down.

"Elliot."

She inched even closer and carefully placed her hand on his back again. He tensed immediately once more and she stayed silent a minute as she desperately kept her palm flat, hoping he would relax.

He didn't.

"Elliot," she ventured softly, keeping her hand in place. "You don't have anything to be sorry about." She tried hard to keep the pain and desperation from her voice but didn't succeed. "Honey, you didn't do anything wrong."

She swallowed again and gently began rubbing circles into his shirt.

"What happened out there, sweetheart?" she asked painfully. "What got you so upset?"

Silence met her ears.

The tears blurred her vision after a minute of no response and she watched his face sink into the back of the couch.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_We're falling apart._

She was so tired.

_My children are falling apart and trying not to let it show. I'm falling apart and pretending I can't see that they are._

It was past dinner time. Her stomach was growling.

But she just couldn't seem to make her body want to move from where it had come to rest sloppily across the mattress. It had been at least an hour.

She felt like she was in a fog.

_My daughter almost becomes a delinquent. My son shuts himself off in his room all day. _

_The man I married has lost the ability to function and I'm letting someone else take care of him_

Tears sprang to her eyes.

Then she heard a harsh knock and flinched. But she remained where she was.

A few seconds passed and then the knock came again.

"Mom?"

She was facing the door. As she watched, the light brown oak slowly opened to reveal her youngest daughter. Elizabeth's face crinkled worriedly as she came inside towards the bed.

Kathy offered a weary smile from where she lay stretched sideways against her pillow and didn't move.

"Hey, hon," she said, inhaling tiredly.

"Hey," Elizabeth answered anxiously. She bit her lip and cocked her head. "Are you okay?" She came up beside her. "Are you sick?"

Her mother smiled lovingly and yawned. "Mmm…" She grunted, closing her eyes briefly. "No." She inhaled again. "Just…just tired."

Her daughter nodded, still looking worried. "Are you sure? We can order pizza if you don't want to cook."

Kathy shook her head. "No," she said. "No…sorry, sweetie. I know you guys are hungry…just give me one more minute. I'll be right there." She nodded firmly and hoped she was convincing.

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment.

"Okay," she said, shrugging.

She left the room, leaving the door standing open.

Kathy sighed heavily and rolled over to face the ceiling.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His head was resting wearily on the cold tabletop. The sound of the door flying open made him jump abruptly and look up fast.

Dwight Haskins was immediately on the defensive from where the chair next to him as they watched the two detectives came inside. The taller one brought up the rear and when he shut the door, Jesse saw that he was carrying a laptop computer.

"Unless there's an attorney behind you," Haskins said matter-of-factly. "I suggest you walk right back out that door, detectives. I won't allow my client to be subjected to any more of your-"

"That's fine," Munch cut in smoothly, startling the attorney into momentary silence. He cocked an eyebrow as he sat down across from the young man and positioned the computer within reach. "All he needs to do is listen."

Madison eyed the detective warily as he silently clattered away on the keyboard, not even looking at him. Haskins did the same and then looked up angrily at Fin, standing beside his partner silently.

"If you think you're going to try some coercion tactic to get a confession, you might as well save your breath." Haskins looked smugly at Fin when the detective furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance toward him. His lips curved into the slightest semblance of a smirk as he over-exaggerated his words. "My client is _innocent._"

_Really? Then how the hell did the little shit get hold of Elliot's coat and badge, you scum fuck? _

Fin just smirked back and remained silent.

The young man continued watching the detective sitting across from him as his fingers flew deftly across the keys. After a minute, John took his hands away, turned the volume controls on, and sat back without a word.

The attorney looked between the two detectives menacingly as they all listened to the low hum of the beginning of a recording.

"But …look-you…you can't tell them who told you, ok?"

The sound of his own voice blaring through the computer monitor sent Jesse Madison's heart speeding into panicked overdrive.

_Oh, God. Oh, God…_

He bit his lip and cast his eyes to the floor, hardening his face instinctively in a mask of coldness.

"They'll kill me, I'm telling you. They'll kill me."

"Your call is completely anonymous sir." A more mature voice took over. "I assure you that no one will ever know that you-"

"Look, they'll know, okay?"

He could feel his underarms beginning to sweat as the recording continued.

"Trust me….once someone gets here the shit is going to hit the fan. I just…I can't do this…I can't watch them do this anymore."

The second voice came in again but John leaned forward to click one of the keys and the recording suddenly stopped.

Jesse could hear the blood roaring in his ears and wasn't even aware of the attorney speaking sharply next to him.

"Is there a point to this little spectacle or are you just here to waste more of my time?" Haskins said hotly.

The young man beside him didn't even look toward him at all. John stopped fast-forwarding and clicked the same key again.

"Look, I swear, ok?" His voice was back and more panicked than ever. "I've got his badge right here. Elliot Stabler….first grade detective…239076, Special Victims Unit. There's a picture inside the front pocket…"

"_Him, a blonde woman, three girls and a boy."_

He finished the sentence without even hearing the words. His throat closed painfully and he struggled to breathe.

"_Please…please, Mister…please be quiet. I'll have to gag you if you don't. I…I really don't want to do that."_

He remembered the way his fingers had clenched as he nervously balled up the t-shirt. He remembered the man's tearful howls and terrified expression.

He saw the blue eyes, so frightened. So blue.

So much like his dad's.

The tears broke free, hot on his face. He bowed his head.

"132 Kroaker Lane. It's…it's a two-story house with brick additions on both sides. There…there's a lake, too."

The recording was shut off and John closed the computer. He stared evenly at the young man's head without speaking. Silence filled the room for several minutes before the attorney finally swallowed.

"I think we should take a minute-" he began.

Fin cut in quietly, his words packing a hammer-like punch with no effort.

"Mr. Haskins," he said with disgust. He too was continuing to stare at the young man. "I think it would be in both of your best interests for you to let us finish first."

Haskins sucked in his lip in frustration but another look at his client made him glower and sit back without continuing to speak.

Fin sat down then as well, pushing the file he had been clutching in his hand closer to the bowed skull across from them. The attorney glanced at it without moving, his expression pensive.

The young man didn't move or look up at all and after a minute, Fin was startled when his partner abruptly spoke. When he looked at him, he saw pure fire in the other man's eyes.

"You're done fucking with us," he snarled. Fin could see his fists clenched under the table. "That is _your_ voice." He slammed a finger roughly onto the file containing the results of the lab work. "This is _your_ DNA we lifted along with seven other men who raped Detective Elliot Stabler."

The young man's head suddenly shot upright and he stared at the detectives with wide, shining eyes, but John didn't even pause. His voice shook with rage.

"This game of yours ends right now, you little prick," he growled. "You can start talking now or you can enjoy those ripe retirement years in a windowless cell. It's your choice and you've got…." He looked at his watch. "Sixty seconds to make it before we walk out this door and throw your ass to the district attorney."

"I didn't rape him." Jesse's voice was choked and strained, like he could hardly make it come out. "I swear to God I didn't. You can't-you can't have my DNA." He shook his head wildly and his eyes widened in pure fear. "You can't… that's impossible." He swallowed and tears slipped down his face again. "I swear to God I didn't rape him."

John stared coldly at him but didn't say anything. Haskins brought the file closer and examined it, shaking his head.

"We've already been over the DNA findings," he said, glaring at the detectives. "It's already been established that none of the fluids recovered belong to my client and I challenge you to prove otherwise."

The young man continued looking between the detectives in panic. Fin's lips involuntarily curled with loathing.

"We didn't get our sample from the fluids," he said coldly, flicking his gaze to the attorney. "It came from particles of skin found on Detective Stabler and crime scene evidence." He looked back at the young man, reaching for the file and uncovering several photos underneath the first page.

"Rope…a gun….a t-shirt…" He dropped the photos of the items in question down as he spoke and looked steadily into the panicked brown eyes across from him.

"Fingerprints don't lie," he continued. "Yours are all over them." His eyes narrowed. "You're just as much a part of this than if you did rape him."

Haskins examined the photographs with a tense expression. Jesse swallowed again and looked to him. The attorney shut his eyes in defeat and sighed as he laid pictures back down. He met his client's eyes squarely and shook his head slightly.

His message was clear and Jesse felt his stomach twist even tighter.

John leaned closer and drew the young man's startled gaze to his, staring at the fear he saw there.

"You can pretend to be a bad-ass all you want," he said quietly. "You called the police…you gave up your location at the risk of being found out by the others." He continued staring, not blinking. "Deep down, you know the right thing to do. It's up to you to prove it. Right here, right now."

Jesse stared back at him, swallowing hard. The intensity of the menacing stare made his hear thud harder and he inhaled a deep breath.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

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Her stomach growled and she quickly pressed her hand over her abdomen, as if the motion would stop the sound from escaping.

With a soft sigh, Olivia continuing twirling her fingers gently through the hair at the base of his skull and smoothed her hand over the short crop from behind. He had eventually given up trying to keep up the twisted position required for him not to look at her and was now just leaning wearily against the back of the couch with his eyes closed.

"It's getting pretty late," she said softly.

She was still playing with the hair absently and marveling at the softness of it. It was almost like rabbit fur.

She found herself thinking idly about how she was all of the sudden completely fascinated to discover physical traits about him that she had never bothered to notice before and why it had taken almost having him ripped away forever for her to put forth the effort.

"I'm getting a little hungry," she continued softly. "How about you?"

He watched him blink slowly without looking like he was even listening to her and she bit her lip, feeling the despair starting to rise again.

Then he nodded. It was a slight movement, barely noticeable.

But he was agreeing.

It made Olivia so happy that she almost burst.

"Why don't we go into the kitchen?" she suggested carefully so as not to let on that she was desperate for him to get some kind of stimulation other than the motionlessness he had adapted since coming back inside. "That okay?"

She waited tensely and felt another rush of panicked emotion when she saw his eyes momentarily become empty before he slowly nodded again.

Olivia stood up and tried to see into the blue gaze but he closed his eyes, as if reading her thoughts.

"Okay," she breathed softly, swallowing the lump in her throat as she hooked her arm around the wheelchair to bring it closer.

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"I…I was coming back from the showers," he said nervously. "One of the guards came up before I got back to the cell, told me I had a visitor and to get dressed."

He stopped and swallowed again, his eyes darting between the two detectives.

"Go on," Fin prompted shortly.

"It was EJ," Jesse continued. "I hadn't seen him in almost two years….last time I'd heard he was still doing a nickel in the pen for being busted with marijuana. He said he was being a 'good boy' and that he had just gotten out a month earlier after a year and a half of the sentence."

He was picking at his cuticle as he spoke, a nervous habit accumulated as a child, and not even aware of it.

"He's being real quiet, you know…sort of leaning close to the glass while he talked so that no one heard him and it made me suspicious."

"_What's your problem? You got an enemy in here or something?"_

_EJ's eyes flashed slightly as he looked menacingly toward the younger man, cradling the phone close to his face and covering it with his hand._

"_I came to offer you a deal, Jess," he said quietly. _ _"You want to get out of here?"_

When Jesse stopped for a minute, John extended his fingers toward him impatiently.

"Well?" he snapped. "Keep going…what kind of a deal was he talking about?"

The young man shook his head slightly, seeming to clear his mind quickly. "Uh," he fumbled, appearing nervous by the tone. "Uh…he told me that he had a score to settle. Asked me if I would help and told me that he could get me out."

He looked at John, his voice becoming rushed. "You gotta understand, man…that place-that place wasn't no club med or anything. It was minimum security, but still, man…I just wanted to get out. That's all…I just wanted-"

"How did you escape?" Fin cut in harshly.

Madison stopped, startled, and looked at the black man.

"We get assigned to outside detail every two weeks," he said. "Cleaning up around the perimeter…there's an interstate nearby and people are always throwing trash out the windows. I was put with the group picking up along the fence, on the very edge of the yard."

He pursed his lips meekly. "They don't put but maybe three guards out there and the watch station's only got one guy for the whole place…EJ was parked along the side of the interstate and came over to cut the barbed wire so I could jump the fence. We were in the car before they even started chasing after us."

He paused for a breath.

"So we drove out of town and he wouldn't tell me where we were going," he went on. "I kept asking him why he needed help and he just kept saying it was going to be fun… 'get ready for the time of your life'."

John's fists clenched again and he had to fight from seeing red.

"We get to some neighborhood and then he pulls into this driveway with an old black van beside it," he continued. "I had no idea where we were…I'm sort of looking around and then EJ shuts off the ignition and grabs my arm…he says that from this point on I had better keep my mouth shut and don't ask questions if I didn't want to go back." He sucked in his lip. "I didn't want to go back."

He stopped talking then and bit his lip. His eyes darted over to Haskins.

John's lip curled angrily. "Keep going."

Madison looked back, chewing on his lip. He was silent.

"You want to go to solitary?" the detective snapped harshly.

The young man looked at the ceiling and inhaled shakily.

"We go inside," he continued. "And as soon as we cross through the door we can hear this horrible yelling from somewhere near the back of the house." His eyes clouded. "I couldn't even make out anything…it just sounded like this huge roaring or something."

His hands were beginning to shake as the memory surfaced and he swallowed again.

_He looked at EJ, perplexed and startled. _

"_What the hell is that noise?"_

_The older man grinned deviously at him and winked. Then before he could react, EJ was grabbing him by the front of the shirt menacingly._

"_You just remember what I told you," he snarled. "You open your mouth and you're a fucking dead man, you got it?"_

_Stunned by the sudden change, Jesse nodded quickly. EJ released him and began walking towards the living room. The yelling was ear-splitting as they entered the kitchen and then he suddenly stopped short in horror._

_A group of men stood on the tiled floor near the bottom of a staircase, forming an odd almost-circle around another man as he descended the stairs. Jesse realized that man was the one doing the yelling at the same time he saw what was really happening and he felt his stomach drop to his feet._

_They were dragging the man down the stairs by his arms. He was stripped naked and screaming wildly as he struggled against the grasp. _

_He stood frozen and could only watch as EJ reached into the waistband of his jeans to pull out a gun. _

"_Shut up!" he barked, his voice ten times louder than it had been the last time Jesse had heard it. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU PUSSY!"_

_They forced the man to stand when they got to the bottom and Jesse watched EJ storm over toward them. He slammed the gun across the man's face with a sickening crack and Jesse flinched. _

"We take the guy outside and EJ ties him up," he continued. "He's out cold, got this huge bruise on his face now…and they all start laughing, like there's some kind of private joke."

Jesse closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Look, I…I didn't know what they were going to do," he said shakily. "When the guy woke up and EJ…." He swallowed, choking involuntarily. "I swear to God, I didn't know about it."

"What did you do?"

John cut in almost before he finished speaking. Madison appeared startled by the question, his head swinging upright sharply. His eyes were shining and caught off guard.

"Do?" he repeated thickly.

Fin glanced at his partner slightly to see him clenching his jaw so tight that his muscles twitched. He looked back at the young man and then looked to the attorney.

Haskins looked pale.

"Yeah," John said harshly. "_Do_." He looked at Jesse with pure hatred in his eyes. "While Jones tied him up… while he _raped_ him…" His voice rose with each sentence, his face starting to turn red. "While the others began taking turns _sodomizing _him...while you were _standing there watching!"_

Madison squeezed his eyes shut. Dwight Haskins opened his mouth but Fin spoke before he could.

"John," he rebuked coldly, glaring at him for a moment.

Munch clenched his teeth and breathed through his nose, falling silent. Fin turned back to the man across the table, his face hard and threatening.

"Answer the question," he said with a deadly tone. He allowed a beat of silence to pass, listening to the man's ragged breaths. "What did you do, Jesse?"

Jesse Madison cracked, his shoulders slumping forward as he began to cry softly.

"Nothing," he whispered in agony. He shook his head in despair. "I went back inside….and turned on the TV."

His voice broke and he bowed his head in shame.

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"…and we thank You, Lord, for the blessings You have so richly provided us with," she went on passionately.

Kathleen looked over at her younger sister as she continued saying the grace over their dinner. She didn't even bother trying to bow her head to hide it as she kept going, looking over at her mom and brother across the table.

Kathy's eyes were closed in prayer. Dickie was staring right back at her.

Startled, she dropped her eyes to her lap.

"…and we ask especially, Father, that You keep Your loving hand over Dad," Elizabeth concluded. "Keep him safe and comfort him during this difficult time. Thank you for bringing him back to us. Amen."

"Amen."

Her mother's voice echoed softly and Kathleen couldn't help but feel surprised as she looked up at her.

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"So then why did you run?" Fin pressed with a raised eyebrow. "If you felt so guilty…if you hated what they were doing so much…why did you run before we got to the house?"

Silence.

"I panicked," he said finally.

John suddenly growled, the sound deep in the back of his throat. It startled his partner into looking at him in surprise.

"Oh….you panicked, huh?" he snapped. "You _panicked_….but still had enough sense to go upstairs, grab hundreds of dollars worth of stolen cash that you'd been building up, and grab Detective Stabler's badge and coat before you left?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Jesse screamed, finally losing it. "Jesus…what the hell do you want from me? I called the police, for Christ's sake! WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

Haskins jumped when John lunged across the table and snagged the young man by his collar, yanking him forward.

"You little piece of shit…" His teeth were clenched. "You little coward piece of shit…you sat inside that house every night knowing…_knowing_ that Elliot was out there, tied up, beaten, and freezing and you did nothing. _Nothing!"_

Before the attorney could open his mouth John had released him from his grip and was glaring at him with fire in his eyes.

"But you called the police," he said snidely. "You felt so guilty that finally…afterthirty-two _God damned days_…you decided it was time to call the police." He sneered at him. "Well, aren't you just the fucking hero?"

The young man was crying.

"I wanted to," he stammered, shaking his head in panic. "I wanted to….they were being so mean to him. I wanted to call the police." His eyes were pleading. "They would have killed me. You don't know EJ like I know him...he would have killed me without thinking twice about it!"

Both Fin and John were startled when they heard a knock on the two-way mirror.

Inhaling through his nose, Fin glared at Madison and stood up. He opened his mouth and then hesitated, closing it with an angry growl before storming toward the door and yanking it open.

John was biting his lip so hard it was white. He stood up and sneered dangerously at both the young man and his attorney. The hatred in his eyes made Jesse flinch.

"One good deed doesn't erase thirty-two days of others," he said lowly. He narrowed his eyes. "Don't ever forget that."

He turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

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"Kath."

The soft word made her head turn towards him fast and she stopped mid-sentence. Sitting at the small kitchen table across from her, Olivia also looked in alarm toward where Elliot sat in the wheelchair, pulled up to the table beside them.

She had offered to help him sit in one of the kitchen chairs. She had gotten a pillow and placed it on the seat, saying it would be alright if he wanted to, even if just for a little while.

He hadn't wanted to.

When she got the glass of Ensure ready for him, he had just looked at it as if she was asking him to drink poison. His face had been dark and bitter when he took the glass from her hand, snapping that he could do it himself.

She had eaten her sandwich in silence while he nursed the drink, swallowing half of the glass before setting it back down on the table.

Kathy had arrived a little while later and Olivia had invited her to sit in the kitchen with them, trying to make it feel normal for Elliot to be up if even for only a short while.

"I need to go the bathroom," he said quietly, his gaze to the side and away from both women.

He sounded weary and it startled his ex-wife, but she didn't show it.

The blonde glanced at Olivia for a brief second as she stood up.

"Sure," she said easily, nodding. "I'll take you."

She stepped behind him and placed her hands on the handles of the chair, slowly bringing him back from the table and turning toward the hallway. Olivia discreetly tried to look at her partner's face before they disappeared.

His head was down and she couldn't.

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Kathy handed him the towel to dry his hands and then wrapped her arms around his waist, bracing herself to lower him back into the chair.

She was startled when he gripped the edge of the sink with his hand and dug in with his flesh, preventing her from moving him.

"Elliot?" she asked.

"Stop," he said, almost like a command.

She stood holding him upright in front of the bathroom sink with her heart pounding. He didn't speak.

"Elliot," she said again. "Honey, what are you doing?" He strained to remain on his feet, his muscles bulging under her hands, and she became even more nervous. She began gently pushing him down toward the chair. "You're going to hurt yourself, sweetheart, come-"

"I want to see." The flat tone was devoid of emotion. "I want…to see."

Kathy gripped his waist tightly as he painfully took a small step closer to the sink. His gasp of pain made her adrenaline rush and she instinctively moved to grab his shoulder, but he shook her off.

The pain was making him start to see spots but he struggled to keep going, bracing his knee against the cabinet in hopes it would ease the strain. It didn't.

Slowly and painstakingly, he straightened his body up to stand upright. Barely aware of Kathy's arms supporting his weight, Elliot took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Then he opened them to look into the mirror for the first time in six weeks.

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She watched him study his reflection in the mirror and had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into sobs.

His eyes were agonized as he turned his face slightly, taking in the dark bruises smattered on the left side from his nose to his cheekbone.

The angry red abrasions traveling into his hairline.

The painful knots peeking up from under his hair.

He braced his body against the cabinet with a gasp and brought a shaking hand up to trace over the cuts on his lip.

His eyes filled with tears as he brought it down to his neck. She saw his fingers trembling as he slowly brought them over the flesh without taking his eyes off of the mirror.

She watched his hand drop to his side limply and then he suddenly was slumping over, not holding himself up anymore. Kathy jumped as she hurried to grab his waist.

He leaned down toward the sink and sobbed hard, his face twisted. His eyes were shut.

For a brief, terrifying second she lost control of his weight as she gently forced him back and this time he didn't resist at all, sagging as he allowed her to drop him down into the safety of the chair.

She got down on her knees in front of him and pulled him to her, hugging him hard. Her tears choked her as she stroked his hair and held his head to her chest. His sobs were deep and racking, making him shake. She held him as close as she could and leaned into his shoulder, closing her eyes in agony.

But she couldn't think of anything to say.

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"Go home," Cragen said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck as he came out of the office.

There were only six detectives working the graveyard shift that night. When he spoke, they looked at him uncertainly for a moment. The two still sitting at the desk didn't even glance at him when he stopped beside them.

Don scowled at them, lifting his eyes to the others in the room. He nodded toward them.

"Seriously," he insisted. "All of you get out of here. Go home, go upstairs…just go get some sleep. I'll let you know when I need you."

The four furthest from him looked at each other and shrugged, dropping their files. Don watched them head toward their lockers before turning his gaze to the desk before him.

"You guys." His voice was stern and authoritative. He looked between the two of them. "I mean it. Go get some sleep, both of you."

Fin looked up at him hesitantly. The exhaustion on his face was evident.

Cragen raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and abruptly pushed away from the desk, getting to his feet. He didn't spare his partner a glance as he walked away.

"John," he said.

"I'm fine, Captain," the detective mumbled without looking up.

"**Go**, John," he said sternly. Munch looked up at him and he softened his gaze. "Really. You did great today, you both did…there's nothing more you can do tonight. Go get some rest."

He looked at the captain painfully for a long moment.

"No," he mumbled, dropping his head.

He continued writing and Cragen shook his head. Instead of persisting, he just turned and walked to his office, shutting the door. A moment later the blinds closed from inside.

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Kathy turned to look at his curled up form on the couch and bit her lip sadly.

"Alright," she said reluctantly, turning back to Olivia. The other woman gave her a sympathetic smile, sensing her unease. "I…I guess I'll just see you tomorrow then."

Olivia nodded, watching her turn back towards him again. After a moment of hesitation she walked toward the couch.

She slowly lowered herself down on the floor beside where he sat looking out at the night sky and reached a soft hand toward his knee.

He jumped when she touched him and it made her heart shatter. She looked into his eyes.

"I'm going to go home now, honey," Kathy said softly. "It's getting late."

He said nothing. The blue eyes looking back at her looked totally empty, like he wasn't even inside. Pushing back tears, she gave him a weak smile and stood up, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said hoarsely.

No reply.

Closing her eyes briefly, she walked away from him with her face twisting.

Olivia gripped her shoulder lightly as she opened the door to see her out. Kathy saw pain in the brown eyes to match her own. She swallowed and took a breath, digging her keys out of her pocket.

"Goodnight, Olivia," she said softly.

"Goodnight," the detective answered, blinking slowly.

She turned and walked down the hallway. She listened for the door as it shut from inside and then let the tears flow free.

Olivia locked the door behind Kathy with a sigh and shook her head slowly, biting her lip before turning back around.

She went over to the couch and sat down gently. He didn't look at her.

They sat silently for a few long moments.

"I'm tired," he said quietly.

She pursed her lips sympathetically, reaching to rub his back gently. He sighed and she felt his back shake.

"You want to go to bed?" she asked tenderly. Elliot didn't move and she felt him shake again. Her brow furrowed slightly in concern. "Hey." She rubbed her hand across his shirt more firmly. "You alright, honey?"

"Leave me alone." His voice was barely a whisper. "Please leave me alone, Olivia….I just want to go to sleep."

He buried his face in the back of the couch, feeling tears flooding his face.

Pain seared her heart but she struggled not to let it show in her voice. She swallowed hard.

"Alright," she said. She nodded, scooting away to get up. "Alright, Elliot….that's fine. I'll let you go to sleep."

She blinked fast, feeling the tears seeping through her eyelashes, and turned away fast to hide them as she pulled the blanket up towards him.

He didn't move and she closed her eyes briefly, backing away from the couch. She studied his back with tears sliding slowly down her cheeks and switched off the lamp.

"Your blanket is right there," she said softly. "Call me if you need me." She swallowed, her voice becoming a whisper. "Goodnight, Elliot."

He listened to her footsteps as they slowly faded away out of the room and sobbed.

_I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Olivia. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. _

He heard the springs in her mattress squeak as she settled into her bed.

His heart felt like it had shattered and he could hardly breathe.

"_You like that? You like that?" _

_He felt it thrust hard into him and moaned, making the man laugh._

"_You want to say something else to me, faggot?" the man screamed, the roar making him flinch. "HUH?" _

_The next thrust made him wail involuntarily into the sand as it felt like he was being split in two. _

"_Go ahead… say something! Say something else, you mother fucking pussy, I dare you!"_

He squeezed his eyes shut and began fumbling under the cushion with a shaking hand. After a minute, he lifted out the razor he had taken from off the bathroom sink that afternoon.

"_If you weren't such an easy piece of ass, I'd kill you right now, you worthless bastard."_

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah…you like it rough. You're the kind of guy who likes it rough."_

Their voices swirled around in his head as he brought the blade up to his bicep.

The first bite of the blade was harsh and made him gasp. He couldn't see in the darkness but the feel of cool blood running down his arm was oddly relieving.

By the third stroke into his arm, he had become fascinated by the numb feeling.


	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

She rubbed the shampoo through her hair, massaging the scalp as the water flowed over her body. Her eyes shut as she leaned her head back.

Wiping her face with her arm, Olivia stepped away from the spray again and squirted conditioner in her hand, rubbing it over her hair as she reached up toward the small shelf for her razor.

After a minute of groping, she squinted and looked up, pushing aside the soapy loofah to see behind it.

No razor.

Then she suddenly remembered that she had shaved her legs on the lid of the toilet a few nights ago when she had been too tired to get in the shower. She must have left it on the bathroom sink.

She pushed aside the shower curtain slightly to see out and scanned the counter.

No razor.

"Fuck," she huffed in exasperation.

Olivia pushed the curtain back and rubbed the conditioner through, shaking her head in annoyance at her own absentmindedness.

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Her heels clicked on the linoleum as she strode off of the elevator and through the squad room doors. A few detectives heading out smiled at her as they passed and Casey returned the gesture.

The morning bustle of activity appeared to be in full swing from what she could see as she made her way through the middle of the room. Uniformed officers were conversing with plainclothes detectives, phones were ringing, and partners sat in desks passing files back and forth.

"Morning, John," she said, as she had to walk directly past where he sat on her way to the captain's office.

He grunted a reply without looking up, his head bent over whatever he was working on. The joint desk was half empty but the unoccupied side was littered with plastic coffee cups and napkins.

Continuing her way to the open doorway of Cragen's office, Casey knocked lightly on the wood and stood hesitantly in his line of sight.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked when he looked over.

The older man's face split into a smile and she found herself unnerved. Don Cragen was not known for his gregarious nature.

"Come in, come in," he insisted quickly, standing and waving her inside with his hand enthusiastically. "Good morning."

She smiled self-consciously, stepping inside slowly.

"Hi," she greeted carefully. She eyed him and bit her lip, wondering if they were close enough for her to be so candid. _What the hell. _"You look happy….good news this morning?"

The captain smiled again. "Great news," he replied, nodding. He gestured swiftly towards the door with a flick of his head. "We got a confession."

"Are you serious?"

The words flew from her mouth instinctively and before she thought about how they might have sounded like. She winced slightly at her aloofness and hurried on.

"I mean…that's great. That's great, Captain." The meaning of his words sank in then, making her heart race with anticipation. "So I take it tape was successful, then?"

"Well," he began, coming around to perch a hip on his desk in most informal fashion. Taking a cue from his demeanor, Casey helped herself to a chair and crossed her legs comfortably as she listened. "Yes. There really was no way for Haskins to deny it when the proof was loud and clear in their own ears."

He nodded. "But still, it was really Munch and Fin who truly rounded it out. They did a hell of a great job getting the kid to admit to his part…_and_ to give up the others for theirs."

Her eyes rounded slightly. "All of them?"

Cragen's eyes gleamed then and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of maliciousness in them.

"_All_ of them," he repeated empathetically, nodding.

Her lips curved into a predatory smirk that surprised even her.

"Where is he now?" she asked, getting to her feet expectantly.

"Back in the cell," Don replied. "I'll let you know when Haskins gets here."

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"Hello?" she answered, picking up the cordless handset on her way to the dresser.

"Hey," Kathy said.

"Hey." Olivia couldn't hide the note of surprise in her voice. The other woman was normally at work by this time of the morning.

"I'm at work," she continued, as if in direct response to her thoughts. "Olivia, I'm sorry, but the girl I usually do my appraisals with had to go out of town unexpectedly last night and we're supposed to have a showing tomorrow morning. My last appointment isn't until five and then I have to cover her books….so I most likely won't be able to make it over to your place tonight."

"Oh," she said, still a little surprised. "Well, that's okay, don't worry about it. I'll be alright."

"I'm really sorry, Olivia," Kathy said again, and Olivia could hear the anxiety plainly in her voice. "I feel awful putting all of this on you...I can call Maureen, have her come give you a hand…or maybe Kat-?"

She couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped. "Kathy," she said warmly. "Thank you, I appreciate you looking out for me. But really…it's not a problem. I'll be fine, I promise. Do what you need to do…don't worry about it."

"Okay," she said reluctantly. She paused, obviously still a little disconcerted. "Well…how about if I give you a call when I'm on my way home, see if you need anything?"

Olivia smiled.

"That would be fine," she said graciously. "I'll tell Elliot you say hello and make sure he knows what's going on."

"Thank you," Kathy replied, sounding visibly more relieved.

"No problem," she answered kindly.

"Okay," the other woman said hesitantly. "Well, I have to get going…thank you, Olivia."

"You're welcome," she replied. "I'll talk to you later."

She replaced the receiver back into the cradle with a smile and a shake of her head. Turning, she went back to the dresser and opened the drawer, pulling out a t-shirt.

Padding into the kitchen, she opened the cabinet next to the stove and pulled out a bottle. She shook two tablets into her palm and went to get a glass.

Elliot was slumped on the couch where she had left him. He had been awake for about two hours now but his expression made it look like it was taking an effort to stay alert. She smiled affectionately as she stepped into the living room.

"Rise and shine," she teased when he looked over at her with sleepy eyes. She held the glass of Ensure up and smiled wryly. "Guess what time it is?"

He scowled, making her laugh as she approached the couch.

"Oh," she sighed, flopping down beside him. "Come on…" Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "It can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

He just looked at her with a pained expression and her face drooped in genuine sadness.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Her hand reached out to gently rest on his knee. "I know you want real food, honey…. I'm so sorry." She pursed her lips sadly when he avoided her gaze. "I promise you that it's only for a little while longer. I promise you."

He didn't respond. She could see the anger in his eyes as he stared at the carpet.

"Elliot." Olivia bit her lip, not wanting to sound harsh but knowing she would have to push. "You need to take your pulls, sweetheart." She held out her hand carefully before him. "I need you to at least take a few sips."

Elliot sighed.

He reluctantly raised his head and took the pills from her hand, making sure to keep his arm buried in the couch cushion beside him.

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"Okay."

She spoke out loud as she sat down on the bar stool and took a deep breath, framing the large yellow legal pad with her hands.

"I can do this," Melinda continued confidently. She scoffed, shaking her head and looking around pointedly as if there was an audience watching. "What are you talking about? _I_ can do this. I'm a wife…I'm a mother…" She scoffed again, waving a hand through the air in careless fashion. "Piece of cake."

She bit her lip. "Okay…pen," she mumbled, looking around. "Pen….pen…."

Her hands scavenged around the messy countertop and skittered over the phone to the basket beside it. She came up with several old Post-It notes, an invitation from a birthday party her daughter had attended almost four months ago, a checkbook cover, and a small plastic yo-yo with string tangled into a hopeless knot.

But no pens.

Scrunching her mouth in annoyance because she was forced to stand up, she walked over to the drawer closest to the dishwasher. Mike had affectionately dubbed it the "junk drawer" because he always stuck random items inside when he didn't know or didn't feel like putting them back where they belonged. She hated it and always told him that she was going to make him clean it or throw everything away.

Pushing aside the phone book, Melinda dug through endless piles of clutter in search for a writing utensil. She uncovered several expired coupons for take-out pizza, a fuzzy troll keychain, a whistle, and a fork before her hand finally hit a ballpoint pen with no cap. She shook her head in disgust as she grabbed both the pen and the fork, setting the eating utensil in the sink as she closed the drawer.

_The scary part about it, _she thought wryly to herself, _isn't finding one of my forks in the junk drawer. _She shook her head. _What's scary is that I can't blame either Mike or Kayla because both of them have the same probability of being the one who put it there._

Her husband had always wanted a second child. She always told him jokingly that sometimes she felt like she already did.

Shaking her head again, Melinda sat back down at the countertop.

"Okay," she repeated, focusing and taking a deep breath. "Let's see…"

She pursed her lips, thinking a moment before beginning to write.

"Milk," she said immediately, knowing right off the bat that they were down to a few mouthfuls of the gallon. "Orange juice….eggs…"

She narrowed her eyes, thinking some more.

"Peanut butter," she enunciated, writing the words out. She looked over her shoulder at the stove and to the cookie jar. "Oreos…lunch meat…"

It took her a few trips to the cabinets and refrigerator, but after about ten minutes Melinda had written out a thorough grocery list. She put the pen down, pleased with herself, and scanned over it before glancing briefly at the clock.

"So…" she continued aloud. "I'll do the shopping, come home and unload, start dinner, and then go pick up Kayla." She nodded to herself firmly and reached for the hook where the keys were kept. "This house wife thing is a snap…I don't know why Mike complains."

The faint beeping made her start and her face froze into a mask of professionalism as she reached automatically for her belt. She unhooked the pager, bringing it to her face to read the message from her lab assistant.

It was turned off.

She recognized the tone of the dryer chime as the disgust coursed through her. She snapped the pager back on with more force than necessary and scoffed in embarrassment, walking toward the garage door.

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"Olivia?"

He spoke softly beside her, practically whispering. She was startled momentarily but immediately shifted so that she could face him.

Elliot had been quiet all morning and she had hesitantly decided to turn on the TV in hopes it might distract him. Up until then, he hadn't shown any interest whenever she had suggested it but at the moment the silence was too much for her.

He didn't say anything outright, but he had appeared in favor of the idea and she couldn't deny being surprised. But at the moment, preoccupation with a situation comedy was fine with her.

Anything to keep him focused on something else.

The silence had still been there as she flipped the channels and he hadn't answered when she asked him what he wanted to watch. She finally stopped at a rerun of _Home Improvement _after going through the selections once.

Two hours later they were still sitting in silence. It was nearing lunchtime, her stomach had started growling twenty minutes ago, and she was still recovering from the shock of seeing a rerun of _Roseanne _that she could remember watching when she was in high school.

Olivia studied his face and saw a dark sadness that made her nervous.

"Yeah?" she answered softly.

She watched him swallow, his Adam's apple throbbing.

"I want to call my kids."

His voice was shaking slightly and she could see telltale brightness in his eyes. Her heart plunged deep to her knees but she kept her face strong and tender, nodding in sympathy.

"Elliot…oh, I know. I know you do," she said softly, gently placing her hand on his leg. She bit her lip. "But its only 12:30…honey, they're not home from school yet."

The brightness became more vibrant, quickly turning into tears that wobbled dangerously at the rims of his eyes and broke her heart. Her hand reached up instinctively to cup his cheek and she stroked her fingers over his temple.

"Why don't we wait about an hour or so?" she continued soothingly. "We might have a better chance of getting them at home." She swallowed, continuing to thumb over the soft skin. "You want to have some lunch first and then we'll call? Want to do that?"

His answering stare was so sad that it made her heart ache when she breathed.

Swallowing hard, Olivia smiled shakily and leaned forward to kiss his forehead tenderly.

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Her head snapped to the side quickly and she scoffed in annoyed disgust.

"Wait-wait a minute, wait a minute," she said quickly, shaking her head insistently.

He glared daggers at her as she nearly cut off his words to the judge. Her answering glare could have set him on fire.

"Have you lost your mind completely? It was _you_ who pushed so hard on getting the change of venue in the first place!" She shook her head, so appalled that the situation was suddenly extremely amusing. "Manhattan or Buffalo Haskins… which is it?"

The public defender clenched his teeth, nearly snapping his response.

"You know what, Novak-" he ground out, challenge clear in his eyes.

"Cut it out, the both of you!"

The angry voice boomed from the speaker phone on the desk, making them jump. Standing behind the desk in front of them, Arthur Branch cut his eyes at Casey in disdain.

"How dare you display such immature behavior in my presence, in person or not! You're lucky I don't disbar each one of you! One more outburst like that and I'll hand off this case, are we clear?"

"Yes, your Honor," Dwight Haskins said sullenly.

Casey was still glaring at the other attorney. When she caught sight of the look her boss was giving her, she quickly turned away from the man to face the phone.

"Yes, your Honor," she repeated reluctantly.

"What's going to happen," Verella barreled on, sounding pissed, "is that the suspect is going to be escorted _here_ and put in holding with the others. _Both_ of you are going to report to chambers, upon which I will lay out the plan for trial, and all of this will happen by 9 am tomorrow. Is that quite understood, Counselors?"

The tone of his voice just got edgier with each sentence and it made her cringe inwardly. His words also made her want to groan out loud.

_Fucking hell. Like I really want to go all the way back up to fucking Buffalo again to deal with you and Slimy-Two Shoes over here…I haven't even been able to **speak** to Elliot yet, God damn it!_

"Yes, your Honor," Haskins droned again.

She fought the urge to sigh.

"Yes, your Honor," she repeated obediently.

"Arthur?" Judge Verella pressed. "Is this agreeable to you?"

Her eyes darted to her boss and she wanted to groan again at the look on his face. She was going to get reamed after this, she just knew it.

"Yes, sir," Branch said cordially. "Sounds like a smart idea to me."

"Glad to hear it," the judge said wryly. "Is there anything else?"

Branch zeroed in on her eyes, his expression clearly making her keep her lips firmly zipped.

"Alright, then," he continued. "Tomorrow, Counselors."

He hung up without another word. The dial tone buzzed loudly for a moment. Haskins, being closest to the phone, reached to press the off button.

A moment of awkward silence fell and the Branch cleared his throat.

"That's all for now, Mr. Haskins," he said with stiff politeness. "You can go ahead…thank you for your time."

Haskins glanced at her a moment and then nodded, shuffling towards the door without a word. Casey watched nervously as her boss came out from behind the desk to shut the door behind the man.

When he turned back, his expression was firm. He gestured with two fingers, eyebrow cocked.

"Sit," he commanded.

She swallowed and lowered herself silently into the nearest chair.

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Kathleen heaved the backpack onto a kitchen chair and pressed the blinking answering machine button as she went to the refrigerator.

"Guys, dinner is on you tonight." Her mother's voice echoed through the room, sounding frazzled. "I won't be home until at least eight…I'm sorry. I don't think Mo is going to come over tonight, but give her a call…maybe you guys can all meet up or something."

She snorted rudely as she was pulling out the cranberry juice.

_Yeah, right…maybe if you pulled all my nails off one by one._

"I'll call when I'm on my way home," the message continued. "Love you…don't get into trouble." _Click._

_Beep. _

"_End of messages."_

She sighed and trudged toward the stairs. The front door flung open as she was passing and she narrowly missed being body slammed when her brother came barreling through like a caveman.

The nasty glare she sent him went unnoticed as Dickie strode past her, dropping his backpack loudly on the kitchen floor as he rummaged through the cabinet.

"Is Mom over with Dad?" he yelled without moving.

Kathleen rolled her eyes, continuing to trudge up toward her room. "She's working late," she yelled back without pausing. "Dinner's up to you."

"Whatever." His voice came closer and she peeked down the slats of the railing without turning around. Her brother was standing by the front door with a Twinkie in each hand. "I'm going over Jason's. Later."

"Where's Liz?" Kathleen yelled out, stopping on the top step as she heard the front door open.

"Track practice!" Dickie yelled back before slamming the door.

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The upbeat music started and she jumped off of the couch, bouncing around in front of the television and shaking her hair.

"Go, go Power Rangers!" she sang along in loud, off-key voice. She feigned an air guitar and began jumping back and forth, her skinny arms going in wild circles. "Da-nah…da-nah…DA-NAH!"

Melinda paused as she was pulling out a carton of juice and watched over the counter with amusement and mild mortification as she watched her daughter continue to look like she was having a conniption in the den. She shook her head and turned toward the refrigerator.

The music became faster and she jumped around in an even bigger frenzy, jumping toward the couch where piles of neatly folded clothes sat waiting to be put away. Her small hand yanked a towel from the middle of a stack, sending the others on top tumbling to a messy heap as she began tying it around her neck like a cape.

"Kayla Warner!"

She froze mid-jump and whipped around toward her mother's voice. Melinda stood pressing her hands into the counter and glaring, her eyes flashing with astonished indignation.

"I just folded those!" she said. She pointed a finger warningly toward the towels on the floor. "Take that off and then pick those back up, young lady." Seeing her daughter's lip beginning to curve into a defiant pout, she cocked an eyebrow warningly. "_Now._"

"But, Mom!" Kayla whined. "I'm a superhero!" She wiggled her shoulders as if to draw more attention to the towel around her neck in case her mother had somehow not seen it. "I need a cape!"

Both eyebrows rose then and Melinda set her face threateningly.

Kayla's lip jutted out slightly. She walked over to the pile of towels and picked one up with a dramatic sigh. Melinda rolled her eyes as she walked back to continue putting away her groceries.

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"Hey," she said, coming further into the room when she saw him stirring. She smiled as she came closer to the couch. "How're you feeling?"

Elliot shifted, reaching to move the blanket off of his stomach. The resulting dizziness made his stomach lurch and he moaned.

"Don't feel good," he managed to mumble.

Olivia grimaced sympathetically as she gently pulled the blanket away from his body.

"I would guess so," she said lightly. "You've been sleeping for almost four hours and you haven't eaten since noon." She moved her hand tenderly over his forehead. "You want something to drink?"

He looked up at her without moving, blue eyes weary. "I want to call them….please, can I can call them?"

The worrier in her nature had her itching to make him drink something, get something in his system. But she smiled and nodded anyway.

"Sure," she said lightly. "Hang on. I'll go get the phone."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The downstairs telephone rang shrilly, echoing around the empty kitchen and living room.

Kathleen sat upstairs on her bed, legs crossed Indian-style. She tapped her nails against her notebook in time to the music beating through the headphones.

The phone continued ringing downstairs.

"Oh," she sang softly, nodding her head in time to the beat. "Amber is the color of your energy…whoa…."

The phone stopped ringing.

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Olivia bit her lip and reluctantly put the phone down, dreading the look that she would see on her partner's face.

"I'm sorry, Elliot," she said. "No one is answering."

He didn't react past a heavy sigh but the sadness in his eyes couldn't be masked.

"We can try again later," she offered desperately.

Elliot only swallowed and turned away from her. She watched with growing despair as he curled into the back of the couch and lowered his head on the cushion. He didn't speak again.

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"You can't do that."

Don refused to let the bitter, contemptuous tone rile him. He continued on as if John hadn't spoken.

"Plan on leaving first thing tomorrow," he said, nodding at Fin. His tone made it clear that it wasn't a suggestion. "The sooner you get up there, the sooner you can get back."

"Captain, this _isn't_ fair!"

He looked back to Munch reluctantly to see a positively venomous stare being directed in his direction. His instinctive reaction was defensive as he furrowed his brow.

"It wasn't my intention, John," he said in annoyance. "But considering your history of interaction with them, can you honestly tell me you can't see where the D.A. is coming from?"

The detective's face darkened.

"No….to hellwith _history_!" he cried. "Fin and I _both _got the confession!"

"I'm through explaining to you," Cragen cut in sharply.

Fin stood silently as they spoke, his eyebrows twitching slightly in response to the heated tones and the way the two of them were facing each other.

_Back off, John…_he thought. _Man, you're an idiot!_

"You're not getting near the suspects again," the captain continued edgily. "Fin is going up to Buffalo with Casey in the morning, end of discussion…and you keep talking, I'm writing you up. Are we clear?"

Munch stormed out of the office without another word.

Fin looked at Cragen hesitantly. The captain shook his head.

"Casey should contact you before the end of the night," he said.

The detective nodded, blowing through his cheeks.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He buried his face further in the back of the couch when he sensed her coming closer.

"Elliot…" Her voice was gentle but he could tell she was biting her lip even without looking. "Sweetheart, are you sure you want to wait until tomorrow? It might help you get more relaxed before bed…"

He shook his head firmly as chills traveled up his spine.

_No. No baths. No baths. Only Kathy can help. No one else._

He couldn't stop from shuddering and knew she could see it. Emotion bubbled in his chest again.

_Go away…just go away._

He heard her sigh softly.

"Alright," she said quietly. "Well….I'll see you in the morning then."

He hadn't even realized he had spoken out loud. He knew he had upset her, he could hear it in her voice.

The soft click told him that she had turned the lamp off. She didn't say anything as she walked away and he listened as her footsteps faded.

He waited a few more minutes before peeking out from the leather. The room was black and he was alone.

Tears welled up fast, making it hard to see as he shifted sideways to fumble under the cushion. He swallowed air as if he was drowning while he pulled the instrument out from its hiding place.

His arm tingled when he dug it out from the cushion for the first time all day. He had made sure to keep it concealed from Olivia's view while they were watching television and was relieved she hadn't tried to make him get up.

His fingers trembled as he brought the blade against his skin. For a moment, he let it linger without pressing down and concentrated on the feel of the cold metal on his warm flesh.

_I want to call my kids._

The blood was running down then and it startled him. He hadn't felt himself press the blade in. He held his arm up and tilted his head, as if he could see it in the darkness of the living room.

_I want to die._

He put the blade to a clean portion on the underside of his bicep and pressed down.

He could feel the blood but no pain. The tears streamed down his face unchecked as he dug into the skin as hard as he could.

He felt nothing but numbness.

_Why wouldn't they let me die?_

Two strokes.

_Why did they have to keep coming back? Why wouldn't they just let me die?_

Four strokes. Ten strokes.

Suddenly he couldn't find a dry patch of skin. Everywhere he touched was slick with blood.

He dropped the blade and sobbed, curling up against the back of the couch. He was freezing but he made no move for the blanket.

He wanted his rabbit but he couldn't find it in the darkness.

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Olivia turned off the light of her bedroom and cried, allowing the tears to drip down her chin without wiping them away.

She was clinging to him so hard, trying desperately to keep him with her, and it was like he was slipping further and further away. His pain was deep and she wanted to fix it. She wanted to fix it more than she wanted to take her next breath.

But he wasn't letting her. He was just continuing to slip away.

She curled up in her bed and cried into the pillow.

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Kathy reached for the phone as she poured herself a mug of coffee and dialed Olivia's number.

The night before had been hell. She had looked at so many finance forms trying to make heads of tails out of her colleague's assignment that she had gotten cross-eyed. She'd finally called it quits at 9:30 and hadn't even gotten finished with it yet.

Her kids hadn't seemed thrilled to see her. She couldn't blame them for being mad at her. She seemed to never be around anymore and they still had yet to see their father.

As she listened to the line ringing, Kathy wondered suddenly why Kathleen or Maureen hadn't decided to drive over there themselves. Any other time she told them to wait to go somewhere, they ended up sneaking off. Maureen had done it even _before_ she had been old enough to drive.

Of course, that thought brought to head the way Kathleen had been acting and she found herself becoming angry again.

After she talked to Olivia, she was going to have to call the school to make sure her daughter had arrived. She wasn't used to not being able to trust her children and she didn't like the feeling.

Seven rings later, she huffed in dismay and looked at the clock as she clicked the phone off. She had to get ready for work.

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Olivia flew out of the bathroom, still dripping, and raced towards the bedroom as the phone rang for the seventh time. She snatched up the receiver.

"Hello?" she answered breathlessly.

A dial tone was all that greeted her.

Scowling, she hung the receiver back up. Damn wrong numbers.

She walked back to the bathroom to retrieve her bathrobe and suddenly heard crying coming from the front of the apartment.

When she had checked on him before getting in the shower, he had still been asleep.

Her heart went into her throat. She threw on the robe and padded quickly down the hall toward the living room.

"Elliot," she crooned worriedly, her face scrunching in concern. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

He was weeping and looking for all the world like his heart was broken. The sight of his flushed, dripping face and his fingers reaching desperately towards her as she crossed the room made her eyes well.

He struggled forward the moment she sat down and startled her when he all but threw himself against her, burying his face into the material of her robe. He was practically heaving with the force of his sobs.

"Oh, honey," she murmured sympathetically, instantly wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. She dropped her face down to his head and kissed his temple. "It's okay. It's okay."

He was so upset that trying to get words out would have been impossible. She shushed him and cradled him lovingly, smoothing his hair with tender fingers.

"Don't cry, baby," she pleaded softly, swallowing hard. She rubbed his back warmly and felt him sweating through his t-shirt. "I've got you, sweetheart." The sadness in her voice couldn't be hidden. "Everything's alright. Don't cry."

She felt relief when he gradually began calming down, swallowing hard against her and sniffling. He was forced to turn his face out of her robe in order to suck in a breath. His face was beet-red.

Her palms became soaked in moments as she began wiping the wetness away from his cheeks. He inhaled deeply and she could that his eyes were painfully red.

"What's the matter, Elliot?" she murmured.

He swallowed and snuggled against her, shaking his head wordlessly. Beginning to rock him tenderly, Olivia stroked his hair and began looking around for the rabbit, thinking he might like having it near. She saw the plush on the floor and reached down towards it.

Her blood froze in her veins when she discovered her razor on the carpet and she stopped breathing.

There was blood all over it.

There was blood…._all over it._

His face twisted in shock and his eyes flew wide, the image of his face becoming a violent blur before her. She didn't even realize she was screaming his name as she grabbed his arm in a brutal grip, yanking it up towards her.

Her heart was giving out. She couldn't remember how to breathe.

She could hardly see as she jerked his wrist in her hand. She was trembling and he was crying and she couldn't do anything to stop his life's blood from spurting out of the vein.

Then he was sobbing her name and she saw that his wrist was perfectly smooth, the small blue lines that sustained his existence slightly faded and absolutely the way they were supposed to be.

He looked at her, terrified, and she could feel him trembling at the same time she realized her nails were digging into his flesh. Trembling fingers traveled up his arm and over cookie-cutter patterns of blood that maimed the skin.

The small part of Olivia Benson that was fighting to remain intact crumbled at that moment.

She had been wrong.

He hadn't been slipping away from her. He had completely fallen.

And she'd had no idea.


	48. Chapter 48

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Standard procedure had him sign out a sedan with a cage screen backseat for the trip to Buffalo in the incident of a safety issue but Fin knew inwardly that it wasn't needed. The young man hadn't resisted being led outside and had placed his hands behind his back to be handcuffed before even being prompted.

Casey had gone ahead of them a few hours earlier, after going home to pack a small duffle bag out of uncertainty about what awaited her or if she would have to stay. They would meet with her later after getting the prisoner through.

There hadn't been a sound from the backseat in the hour they had been on the road and the detective accompanying him hadn't said one word to him since they had left Manhattan. He hadn't been with the squad long and all Fin knew about him was his name.

Just as well. He wasn't in the mood for conversation anyway.

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Six hundred seconds.

Six hundred seconds in the bathroom, hunched over the sink, grasping the corners of the counter so hard that her palms now had indentations.

Six hundred seconds to make herself stop shaking, to make her stomach stop spinning. To look in the mirror and command herself to breathe.

Just. Breathe.

Two hundred seconds to get the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and walk back into the living room.

Three hundred and fifty seconds of sitting beside him on the couch and talking to his back.

And counting.

"Elliot," she pleaded desperately. "Honey, I'm so sorry. Please look at me." His wet

heave of breath into the back of the couch made her heart throb. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, baby…I'm sorry if I scared you. I…I just-"

She lost her breath again, her throat closing in terror once more without being able to help it.

She had been so certain….Jesus, she had been so _certain _he was going to bleed to death right in front of her….that she was holding his veins in her hand.

That she was going to die right beside him.

Olivia swallowed hard and exhaled a deep breath. She carefully inched closer to him and placed a hand gingerly on his back, feeling him flinch and become tense.

"You scared me," she whispered painfully. "You…just really scared me, Elliot."

It was almost like a dam had broken. She heard him sobbing hard then and could feel his back shaking under her hand.

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"Yeah…alright," Don said into the phone, nodding. "Yeah….yeah, we've got it. Uh-huh. Bye."

He hung up and pursed his lips a moment before walking around the desk.

"John," he called, stepping through the open doorway

The detective hadn't said a word to anyone since walking in that morning. He knew the man was still pissed at him for making him stay behind and having the empty desk across from where he sat only made it more obvious.

His head come up and Cragen saw the coldness behind the glasses as he silently looked at him.

"Central Park Mounted Patrol reported two bodies found in a car parked in the woods," he said, holding out a piece of paper with the address of the crime scene. "Male and female…said it looks like one for us."

John stared at him silently. The defiance in his eyes was obvious and Don felt his anger instinctively rising.

_God damn it, Munch…don't make me regret letting you come back on duty. **Don't.**_

He saw the other man's jaw twitch slightly and his eyes narrowed.

Then he stood to his feet. His face was still stony but he walked towards the captain and reached for the address.

"Sure," he said quietly.

Don held on a moment longer than necessary, forcing them to lock eyes before releasing the paper to him.

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He pulled out his badge and extended it out the window.

"Detectives Tutuola and Justice," he said. "Manhattan Special Victims Unit….suspect in transport."

The guard sitting inside the small booth hardly glanced at the identification as he pressed a button. A loud buzz preceded the gate opening to allow them entrance into the back lot of the building.

The silence inside the car remained boisterous as he drove around and he glanced into the rearview mirror to see the backseat. The young man was still slumped against the seat, his head lying carelessly against the upholstery as he looked out the window with a blank expression.

He couldn't hold back his sigh of relief as he turned off the ignition and took his foot off of the brake. His butt was numb and he was sick of sitting in the damn car.

He was surprised when Detective Justice swiveled around to look at the backseat after unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Thanks for flying with us," he said sarcastically. His expression was disgusted. "Hope you enjoy your stay."

Madison sneered at him as he straightened to sit upright but said nothing.

Fin opened up the back door and unbuckled the man's seat belt. Though he realized he shouldn't have, he couldn't deny once again being surprised by the compliance. The young man slid over without a word, allowing him to take him by the arm before getting up out of the seat. He placed his hands behind his back and Fin turned him around to fasten the handcuffs onto his wrists once more.

Justice came around to take him by his left arm and he was escorted between them into the back door of the building.

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An embarrassed flush came over her face when she came back into the living room with the pills and water to see him struggling with the blanket.

She had gone a tad overboard in making sure the cuts were all cleaned and covered. His upper arm had so much gauze wrapped around it that it almost rivaled the other one in the sling.

_Oops. _

"Need some help?" she asked kindly as she walked over to the couch.

Elliot stopped moving and looked at her warily. He swallowed.

"Cold," he mumbled, his gaze darting away as he fumbled awkwardly with the blanket again. "It's really cold."

Olivia set the glass down on the coffee table and laid the pills carefully next to it so that she could have both hands free. She took the end of the blanket he was struggling with.

"Here, I'll get it," she said.

His hand fell away as she straightened it out and pulled it up to his chest. It trailed on the floor and was difficult to keep in place since he was sitting up, but she tried her best to cover his upper body as much as she could.

"There you go," she murmured, tucking the edges around his middle hoping it would stay. "How's that?"

He inhaled shakily before abruptly leaning into her side, lowering his face against her neck. She started for a brief moment and then wrapped her arm around his shoulders, bringing him close to her.

He was shaking. Olivia kissed the side of his head, knowing that both of them couldn't stop thinking about the morning but neither wanted to bring it up.

"So I've got some good news," she said after a minute. His eyes came up slightly towards her. "I talked to Kathy….she said she's going to bring the kids over with her tonight."

It wasn't a lie. After her three calls and three urgent messages to Doctor Olivet's office that morning, she _had _called Kathy at work and asked if she would mind bringing them.

Thankfully, the other woman hadn't asked why. She didn't know if she would have been able to tell her. It was still too raw for words.

He swallowed deeply and sniffled. His eyes were wet, but she could tell he was trying to hold in the tears.

She stroked his hair and allowed the silence to continue. He seemed to want it.

"You want to take your pills?" she finally murmured after a few minutes, not moving.

Elliot inhaled deeply and then sighed. She leaned forward to scoop up the pills before he could say anything, holding them out near his chest and waiting.

He sighed again and then his arm came out from the folds of the blanket to slowly reach for them.

She smiled tenderly and reached for the glass of water, wrapping her fingers around it securely as she tipped the straw toward him.

He drained it slowly and then turned his head, burrowing his body tighter under the blanket and shivering again.

"It's too cold," he said. She could hear the tears creeping into his voice. "Olivia…Olivia, I'm so cold."

He dropped his head then and began to cry painfully. She leaned back beside him and took him into her arms, rocking him sadly. His face disappeared in her neck and they sat silently.  
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She could her breakfast rise in her stomach and gripped the edges of the armrests with clenched fingers as she kept her face composed.

"Now, as I said before," Judge Verella continued. "Out of compassion for the victim, I'm not going to allow eight separate hearings to accommodate each individual." He looked to the defense attorney. "Mr. Haskins, you will be expected to divide up the defendants at your discretion in such a way that will allow all eight to stand trial within three separate hearings."

"Yes, your Honor," Haskins said, nodding obediently. "It won't be a problem, sir."

"Make sure it doesn't become one," the judge said sternly, eyeing him a moment longer before turning his attention to Casey.

"Now, Ms. Novak…I have the fullest sympathy for Detective Stabler and would hate to do anything that would cause him further turmoil." He pursed his lips hesitantly before continuing.

"But seeing as it has now been almost two months since the original accusations, I have to insist that you go forward with the grand jury testimony by the end of the week next Friday or I will have to allow the defendants the opportunity to set bail."

Casey swallowed.

"Yes, your Honor," she replied softly.

"Also, remember that the change of venue stands at this time unless there is sufficient reason to file anew." Judge Verella went on. He looked at both of them. "Is that amendable to anyone?"

"No, your Honor," Haskins said.

She shook her head sadly, feeling so much pain at the thought that she almost couldn't speak.

"No, your Honor," she echoed quietly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The atmosphere of early dusk was just beginning when she made her way up the steps and into the building. She checked her watch as she hit the elevator button.

She was meeting her sister at seven for dinner. Hopefully, she would have enough time to go home and change….that is if the elevator ever arrived.

It seemed to take fifteen minutes, but finally she heard the _ding_ and she rushed in, pressing the button for the fifth floor several times in vain attempt to make the doors close faster.

No luck. It still took a good two minutes before them to decide no one else was coming in and closed. She rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall as the car ascended, rubbing her forehead.

She was tired, she was cranky, and she _really_ didn't feel like going back out tonight. The day had been long and she just wanted to go home to a pint of Ben and Jerry's and maybe a movie to unwind. But she had blown her sister off the last time she had been in town…Emily would kill her if she did it again.

The elevator stopped and Elizabeth sighed as she stepped off. She began the walk down the hall to her office, digging into her purse for her keys as she went. She unlocked the door and dumped her work bag on the table with a relieved sigh.

The light on her phone was blinking to indicate messages were waiting and she leaned over to press it as she began taking files out of the bag.

"You have… five… new messages," the automated voice informed her.

Dr. Olivet's head snapped up in surprise at the unusual amount. She had been out of the office all day but her cell had been on in case of emergency…no one had called that she knew of.

Abandoning her bag, she walked closer to the phone and listened as the messages began.

"Doctor, it's Larry Burkheind…"

She groaned inwardly at her colleague's voice, remembering she still owed him copies of the funding request she had put in earlier that week. She pressed the skip button and moved on, vowing to call him in the morning.

"Hey, Liz, it's me…" Emily. "I forgot the name of the street you said the restaurant was on…I'm at the hotel so give me a call whenever you get in."

She rolled her eyes with a smile and pressed the skip button again.

"Hi, um….Doctor Olivet."

The woman's voice was hesitant and she frowned instinctively, not recognizing it.

"This is…Olivia Benson. Captain Cragen told me that you had been talking to him about possibly seeing Elliot Stabler…."

Her chin jerked up as she listened more closely, her brain focusing at once.

"Well, he's um…he's staying with me right now and um…" There was silence for a moment. "Just please give me a call….646-3212. Thank you."

Swallowing, Elizabeth waited until the message ended itself. She reached for the phone immediately only to stop when the next message began.

It was Olivia again, saying pretty much the same thing as before.

Same with the last message.

Dr. Olivet shook her head slightly, all thoughts of her plans leaving her mind as she again reached for the phone.

It was almost quarter after six but the woman had sounded desperate.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her siblings rushed in at once, nearly trampling Olivia when she answered the door, but Maureen held back.

She was nervous and didn't know why. All day she had been hardly able to concentrate because she was anticipating this moment and yet here it was and she was nervous.

"Come on in, Maureen," Olivia said brightly when she saw her still standing by the closed door. She waved her hand toward the living room invitingly as she walked over and the young woman was slightly stunned to receive a hug. "How have you been?"

"Um…okay, I guess," she said, forcing a smile.

"Hi, honey."

Her mother came in from the living room wearing a smile that Maureen hadn't seen in….she couldn't even remember when.

"Go on and see your dad," she said, cocking her head. "He should still be there…that is if your sisters and brother haven't smothered him."

The young woman swallowed hard as she nodded. She stepped past the other women to the doorway of the living room and found herself closing her eyes before she could see inside.

She wasn't aware of her mother watching her in concern.

Taking a deep breath, Maureen opened her eyes to see her father sitting on Olivia's couch. He was surrounding by her siblings on both sides and smiling so hugely that she could see light reflecting off of his white teeth.

Her dad had always had the most beautiful smile.

She studied him discreetly with a lump in her throat. He was so caught up listening to Elizabeth chattering that he had yet to notice.

There was a blanket over his legs and two huge pillows propped behind his back. Her eyes were automatically drawn to the white sling around his neck, nestling his right arm over his sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt swallowed him. It was obvious even with the little she could see of his upper body and she found herself frightened. Never, in her entire twenty and a half years on this planet, had she ever seen her father so thin.

His face was unnaturally pale and she was startled to see large bruises around his nose and eyes.

Had they been there when she saw him in the hospital? How could they _not_ have been?

"Maur."

The excited, breathy sound of her name made her brain snap back to attention and she found herself looking right into blue eyes shining with delight.

Those were her eyes. Those were the eyes and the strong jawbone she had inherited that was so unlike the rest of the family's. Those were the eyes she saw in her dreams at night when she tried not to focus on how much she was hurting.

"Dad."

She was rushing into the room before she realizing it, the surroundings and her sibling's faces a blur as she wrapped her arms desperately around the strong neck of the man she would love more than any other in the world.

"Oh, Dad," she whispered, embarrassed to feel the tears streaming down her face but not wanting to let go of him long enough to wipe them away. She laughed and nuzzled his neck with her nose, breathing him in. "God, I love you….God, I love you so much."

She could feel his arm over her back, pressing into her flesh hard with the force of his grip. She felt wetness drop onto her neck and realized that it hadn't come from her.

"Hi, baby," she heard him rasp tearfully. "Hi, my love….my sunshine love." The use of the nickname she hadn't heard since she was in diapers made her chuckle with affection. "I missed you so much, baby."

She buried her face in his shoulder, feeling him stroking her hair, and sighed happily.

"Alright, guys…." Her mother's chuckling voice was heard dimly from somewhere behind her. "Let your dad breathe, huh? You're going to suffocate him."

When Maureen reluctantly forced herself to pull away, she realized that her siblings had somehow all managed to squeeze themselves into the hug around her. They were nearly pinning him to the back of the couch.

A flush crept over her face as she got to her feet quickly, straightening her sweater. Olivia was smiling in amusement from where she stood beside her mother.

"What have you guys been up to, huh?" Elliot asked excitedly, looking around at Elizabeth and Kathleen, who had refused to move away from his side on the couch. His eyes came up to her and then went to her brother as well.

Her youngest sister's eyes darted to her hopefully and she shrugged slightly, nodding.

"Dad…we, um…." Elizabeth said nervously. "Well…we-we made something for you."

The surprise in his eyes was obvious, as was in the eyes of her mother as well when Maureen glanced at her.

"We all did," Dickie added.

He looked at them in happy surprise, raising his eyebrows. It became quiet then and Maureen suddenly realized her siblings were all looking at her urgently. She furrowed her brow in confusion for a second before remembering she had put it in her purse.

"Oh," she said, scoffing at her own stupidity. "I have right, that's right….sorry." She slid the bright oversized bag off of her shoulder and rifled through it until she pulled it out. She turned toward Olivia uncertainly. "Um…do you…?"

"Sure," she said quickly, taking the video tape from her. "I'll set up the VCR."

She smiled and nodded her thanks as she turned back to the couch. Her sisters were both looking at her father with amused grins, seeing his mystified look. Their mother also looked perplexed as she crouched down next to the foot of the couch.

Kathleen smiled wider. "When Mom told us you were coming home, we wanted to give you something to make you feel better," she explained, as Olivia quietly took a seat on the floor beside her mother. "Liz came up with the idea…"

The youngest Stabler was blushing furiously, her face so red that she looked to be on fire.

"And Kat did all the editing and stuff in her film class at school," Maureen chimed in.

She saw her mother's face look shocked before she controlled it.

Maureen looked to Olivia. She pressed the play button on the remote control and the room filled with silence.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He waited, shocked and surprised and pleased all at once, as they all stared at the television. For a moment there was static and then suddenly his youngest daughter's face was filling the screen.

Maureen's voice came in the background. "What is your favorite thing about Elliot Stabler?"

Elliot felt his throat tighten in surprise and emotion, a stunned smile crossing his face.

Elizabeth smiled brightly on-screen and off.

"The way he smiles and says my name," she said. "It always comes out like it's the most beautiful word he's ever heard."

Dickie face filled the screen next, the background and noise making it obvious that he is near the school football field. Kathleen's voice was heard this time, asking the same question.

He watched his son on the screen, appearing to mull this over hard, his brow scrunching comically. The expression made Kathy laugh from where she sat and Elliot started, almost forgetting for a moment where they were.

"His laugh," he finally answered. "It's so contagious that everyone around him will start once they hear it."

Olivia chuckled inwardly.

_So true. _

The video continued, each of the twins repeating the process for the older girls. When her portion ended after revealing how she thought his best quality was the amazing role model he had provided for them, Kathleen glanced over to see her father silently crying.

A twitter of nervousness began forming in her stomach.

Maureen believed his best quality was the way he always acted like seeing them was the most anticipated part of his day.

He smiled slightly, swallowing quietly.

A series of candid photographs came floating on the screen next, each featuring Elliot and one of the kids. Olivia laughed out loud when she saw the one where they were at the beach. Her partner was buried up to his neck in sand and a very young Kathleen was squatting next to him, her chubby baby tummy poking out of a floral-patterned bathing suit as she painted shapes on his face with sun block.

"My favorite thing about Elliot is his heart."

The sound of his captain's voice filling the air made Elliot's eyes pop in surprise. A minute later, the camera zoomed in on Cragen, sitting in the chair in his office.

"I've met very few good men in my lifetime," he continued, shaking his head with conviction, "but Elliot Stabler is one of a kind. If ever there was a person to make the world brighter, it's him….and he does it without even realizing it."

Kathy looked to Olivia in stunned surprise to see the exact same reaction on her face.

Elliot watched, absolutely floored, as twelve of his colleagues each offered up an opinion about what his best quality was. Fin was last and the answer he gave shocked him so much that he was speechless.

"Elliot," the black man said seriously, "is the best person I have ever had the honor to know. I love him like blood and every day we work together provides another reason to admire him."

The camera panned out a moment and then zoomed back in to a group shot of the squad room, including Fin and the captain, all telling him "welcome home" in unison.

The tape stopped.

Silence filled the room again as they all sat still. Elizabeth looked slowly to her father and saw him with his head down, crying quietly. She looked worriedly to her sisters before turning toward her mother.

She was also crying and Olivia was glassy-eyed.

Maureen was quietly holding her breath, not sure if she should speak as she looked at the adults. Dickie looked worriedly at his twin and back again.

"You guys," Kathy finally managed to say shakily. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Olivia swallowed and nodded.

"It was beautiful," she added. "Fantastic."

Kathleen looked to be letting out a huge breath as she looked at her.

Nervous silence filled the air as they all tentatively looked at Elliot then.

All they could hear was the sound of his quiet sobbing as he kept his head down. He sniffled and exhaled tearfully a few times as the kids looked at their mother worriedly.

He swallowed, trying to breathe, and finally raised his head. His face was twisted as he stared into the worried faces of his children.

"Come here," he managed to whisper, extending his arm out pleadingly. "Please…"

Maureen was the first to get up. She sat down beside him and immediately leaned against his chest. He rested his face on her head and stroked her hair again as he cried.

The twins looked nervously at their mother to see her close her eyes.

Kathleen followed suit, jumping up on his other side and hugging his neck. After a moment, the youngest two squeezed in as well.

Olivia swallowed hard at the scene, heartbroken.

The ringing of the phone broke through the room suddenly. Reluctantly, she got up and hurried toward the kitchen, reaching for the cordless receiver she had left on the counter.

"Hello?" she answered quietly.

"Olivia?""

She recognized the soft, melodic voice immediately despite having not really worked with the woman in almost five years.

"This is Elizabeth Olivet," she continued.

"Doctor Olivet," Olivia said quickly, leaning against the counter. "Hello…" She sighed in relief. "Thank you so much for calling back."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner," she said. "I was away all day and didn't get your messages until just a few minutes ago." She paused. "You sounded urgent…is everything all right?"

She scoffed sadly, closing her eyes.

"No," she said after a moment. "No…it isn't."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sighing sadly, Kathy got to her feet and went towards the kitchen.

"Olivia," she said as she entered. "We need some tissues-"

She trailed off when she saw the other woman hunched over the counter, her head buried in her hands, and stopped.

"Hey," she said softly, slightly hesitant. "Are you okay?"

Olivia's shoulders bunched as she sighed heavily. She lifted her face up out of her palms and the expression Kathy saw made her stomach clench instinctively.

"What's wrong?" she asked warily.

The other woman shook her head slowly and rubbed her eyes. She inhaled shakily, the desperation obvious in the sound.

"He's been cutting himself, Kathy," Olivia said softly, her voice flat.

Her heart stopped. She would have sworn by it. Conscious thought and functioning flowed out of her like liquid and she was left standing frozen in the middle of the floor.

Olivia inhaled again and shook her head, looking at her but not seeing her. Her voice was dull, sounding almost tired.

"I found him this morning with my razor," she continued. "I don't know how he got or how long it's been going on…." Her eyes were shining. "When I first saw him…I thought he had slit his wrists."

Her voice caught and dried up painfully.

Kathy felt herself trembling. She swallowed, trying to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth so she could speak.

She couldn't. She couldn't even move.

"The captain…" Olivia kept on in the same tired, whispery voice. "Wanted me to ask him about seeing a therapist that works with us." She swallowed. "I never did it. I thought….I didn't want him to…to feel-"

The tears suddenly were sliding down her cheeks and her chest began shaking. She shook her head in agony.

"That was just her," she said, gesturing absently toward the phone. "She says that we need to get him in with her as soon as we possibly can."

She shook her head again and fell silent.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He heaved a huge sigh as he unlocked the front door and trudged inside. He shut the door behind him without pausing, merely kicking out his foot halfheartedly.

His hand automatically went to his hip to take off his gun and he snapped on the safety as he walked toward his bedroom, tossing it on the bedside table.

Yawning, John slid off his shoes and padded into the bathroom.

_Why am I tired? What the hell did I do all day? _

He stared at his reflection in the mirror with disgust for several minutes. Then he sighed and turned away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His head settled on her shoulder and she reflexively cradled his neck, sighing quietly. She felt him move his arm around awkwardly, pressing the rabbit he was clutching against her face without realizing it.

He nuzzled his face restlessly against her collarbone several times and whimpered, making her wince in sympathy.

"Oh, baby," she said sadly, rubbing his back slowly. "You're so tired." Olivia brought her face down against his head, trying to keep him still as she soothed into his ear. "It's alright…shut your eyes, sweetheart."

He started to cry from pure exhaustion, making her chest shake slightly with each breath he gasped against her skin. Her heart ached as she continued to rub his back gently and she brought the blanket further up his back.

Her eyes could hardly focus on the numbers on the VCR anymore, but the last time she had looked it had been nearly 2 am. Three hours since she had gotten him settled in for the night and he still wouldn't stop fighting sleep.

"Shh…shh, Elliot." She forced her eyes to remain open as she nestled her nose against the side of his cheek. "Sweetheart, you're exhausted."

She began rocking him slightly, her eyes closing out of their own volition. She yawned and swallowed, opening them again painfully. A sharp pain in her arm made her wince and she shifted, gently taking the rabbit out from between them so that she could move.

He whimpered again and she stroked his back with her other hand as she found a more comfortable position. The new angle created a perfect natural resting place for his face and he leaned into it wearily.

Sighing in relief, she brought the rabbit back against him so he could hold it once more and she could wrap both of her arms around him.

She stroked his hair and listened to his breathing evening out as his fatigue began forcing him to shut down.

Before long, his breaths were coming in slow repetition as he passed out against her.

Olivia stared up at the ceiling and relaxed her muscles, allowing herself to feel the sensation of having him in her arms.

_I'm so sorry to do this to you. I'm so sorry I've failed you, Elliot. _

Tears filled her eyes and she lowered her head back down to rest on his.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Casey looked at the phone on the counter, squinting in the unnaturally bright morning sunlight streaming through the window next to the sink.

Cragen or Olivia….

_Who should I call first?_

She had a feeling neither was going to take the news well.

Her eyes darted up to the clock when she heard the coffeepot perk. She had an hour to get ready for work.

Sighing, she shook her head and reluctantly picked up the phone.


	49. Chapter 49

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

"**For today, we will forget all college affiliations. For today, we are all Hokies."**

**From a proud Virginian and fellow student, may the victims and everyone at Virginia Tech be kept in our prayers and hearts. We are Hokies…we will prevail.**

**Author's Note: The character of Doctor Elizabeth Olivet will be more recognizable to those of you who have watched the original Law and Order series, however she did make a few cameo appearances in the early seasons of SVU. One episode where she was predominately featured was season two's "Baby Killers" and it was my love for her performance that drew me to use her for this story as opposed to another character.**

For as long as he had been bracing himself for this inevitable news, the air still rushed from his stomach and he had to make an effort to breathe.

She was silent on the other end, the anxiousness having been more than obvious in her previous words. Don let out a breath slowly to get his control back and attempted to eject reassurance.

"How did Olivia react when you told her?" he asked.

Casey hesitated and he grimaced. _That's never a good sign._

"I…actually haven't yet," the attorney admitted sheepishly. "I thought it would be better to call her once I got to my office…"

She trailed off uncertainly and went silent. Cragen winced sympathetically.

"I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can," she continued. "But I'd recommend starting to get ready to go to Buffalo. Once things get going..."

She left the thought in the air again but the heaviness in her voice told of grim acceptance.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He glanced up at his partner's arrival for a flitting second before looking back down. Fin didn't even glance his way as he went to his locker, so it didn't matter anyway. His face was drawn tighter than usual and the scowl appeared more prominent.

He looked exhausted and like he wanted to walk back out the door. John thought for perhaps the millionth time about the transport he hadn't been allowed to participate in as he got up to walk toward the coffee pot.

He filled a mug and doctored it with cream, picking up two sugar packets as he turned back. Fin rubbed his forehead and sighed as he sat down in his chair, turning on the computer.

The mug of coffee being held out in his direction made the black man look up, startled.

John stared at his partner silently as he offered the cup and didn't blink. He steadfastly watched the expression in his partner's eyes as he took it after a minute.

There was silence as they just stared at each other.

In a brief flash of panic, Munch wondered if his partner would throw the scalding liquid into his face. Maybe he would just dump it straight into the wastebasket and ignore him completely.

Fin's dark eyes narrowed slightly, making him swallow. He drew in a controlling breath inwardly and prepared to deal with the strain once more.

"Thanks," his partner finally said quietly.

He didn't smile. There wasn't a hint of camaraderie in his tone at all.

But for a moment…a brief almost nanosecond even….John saw his face soften slightly.

Then he sat down again and they began working silently.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

One week.

It had been exactly one week today since she had taken her "leave" from the morgue.

Her head was turned toward the bedside table when she awoke, providing her with a face full of neon yellow light from the insane new alarm clock that Mike had sworn up and down she would love. It was three times the size of their old one, had a peculiar "H'" shaped screen that displayed insanely huge digits for the time and date in a choice of three different neon colors, and doubled as an Ipod charger.

Like she ever used the damn Ipod.

It too had been a purchase of her husband for the purpose of "keeping up with technology", as he had so passionately put it that night at Target after he had found a variety of them on sale. She personally hadn't seen anything wrong with their CD player, but if he knew how to use the thing it didn't really make a difference to her.

Groaning, Melinda rolled over onto her back and stared sleepily up at the ceiling.

_Seven days. It's only been seven days? _

God….it felt like ten years.

_Is seven days long enough to convince my staff that it would be in my best interest to get back to work as soon as humanly possible?_

She already knew the answer to that. As soon as she walked in the door, Gary and one of the other male assistants would try to beefcake their way into forcing her back out. Over the years, she had found that the makes on her staff were worse mother hens than the females.

It was only because they cared about her….and she _had_ been running herself ragged. And even though it had been a week, she still hadn't let herself fully relax.

And there was that pesky little promise she had made to Mike about taking at least two full weeks in order to give him peace of mind that she wasn't going to have a stress breakdown.

Melinda groaned again petulantly and turned her face, masking the sound with her pillow so as not to wake her husband.

Her Achilles Heel. She never could deny Mike Warner of anything.

_Seven more days. Seven more days of relaxing and "me" time. _

She pushed her head far against the pillow to squish it flat and sighed.

_I'm going to be climbing the walls._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You talked to Casey?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," she sighed, blowing through her cheeks. "Yeah, she just called."

His silence was meant to be a comfort, but the sound of it made the emotions she was barely holding on to surface again. She swallowed and closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"That's only seven days from now, Captain," Olivia said weakly. She sighed and shook her head again. "I don't….I don't know if he's going to be able to do it."

Don took his time responding, sensing that he had to tread carefully. "Maybe it's time you gave Doctor Olivet a call, Olivia," he said gently. "I can come by…help you talk to him about it."

She felt searing pain in her heart. He seemed to sense it, as his voice trailed off and he went silent.

She exhaled tearfully, trying to keep the tears at bay and feeling herself failing.

"I did call," she said shakily. "Yesterday." She swallowed. "She wants to come over here…try to make him comfortable with her before we do anything."

"Oh," he said quietly. "Well….that's good, Olivia. It's a step in the right direction."

The words undid her control. She let the tears spill down her cheeks and cried quietly into the phone. Cragen swallowed nervously, letting the silence fall between them for a moment.

"You haven't told him yet?" he asked gently.

"I can't," she burst out in agony. "How are we going to put him through this?" She shook her head in despair. "He's so unsure, Captain….so afraid of who to trust. I can't bear to think about him losing the little bit of safety he's been trying so hard to hold on to by making him relive everything again."

Cragen sighed sympathetically, nodding on his end of the phone.

"That's why I think you should go ahead with the doctor, Olivia," he said softly. "Before we can expect him to feel safe again, we have to help him get back that understanding that there are people out there who don't want to hurt him."

She inhaled, biting her lip. "What if he won't talk to her?"

The captain came back with an easy tone, as if it were the most natural suggestion in the world.

"Then we'll keep trying until we find someone he can talk to," he replied kindly. He paused a moment, gauging her reaction before continuing. "He knows Doctor Olivet…you don't have to push anything with this, Olivia. Just let him see a friendly face."

Olivia was silent as she took in the truth of his words and then blew out a resigned breath. But when she finally spoke again, Don heard less heaviness in her voice and it gave him hope.

"Speaking of friendly faces," she said quietly, pausing. "His kids came over last night…showed him the video you guys made."

She heard the captain blow out a surprised puff of air, as if he had almost forgotten about it, before chuckling lightly.

"Those kids, I tell you…" She could hear the smile in his voice now. "That was really a great idea. I was shocked when they told me about it."

A tearful laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah, we were pretty shocked to see it," she agreed lightly. She swallowed, her voice becoming quiet suddenly. "It was good of you guys to do that."

"It didn't take any persuading," Cragen came back warmly. "We miss you guys, Olivia…don't ever let yourselves forget that. No matter what happens, we're family and we'll do whatever we can to help."

There was silence on the other end for a moment and when she spoke again, it sounded like she was holding back tears.

"Thank you, Captain," she said shakily. She sniffled and glanced up at the clock on the microwave. "Listen…I need to get Elliot up and ready to take his medicine. I'll call you tonight and let you know how the day goes."

"Sure," he said. "No problem." He paused slightly. "Olivia, listen…you've done so much for him. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too."

A lump formed in her throat but she pushed it aside.

"Don't worry about me," she said dismissively. "As far as I'm concerned, the only thing that matters is out there sleeping on my couch."

They hung up and she leaned back in the chair, covering her face and just forcing herself to breathe to keep the sobs from breaking free. After a few moments, she finally stood and walked over to the cabinet to get the pills.

Her eyes traveled into the living room as she closed the door and for a moment she just stared at her partner.

She thanked God again for the fact that he was there.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sergeant Carl Brooks was halfway down the stairs when he heard crackling from his radio. He reached for his hip and lifted the walkie-talkie to his face, turning up the volume.

"Copy that?" he asked into it, stopping so that he could concentrate on what was being said.

Deputy William "Billy" Blanks came back almost instantly, firing words rapidly into his radio as he jogged down the corridor quickly.

"Get some help down here," he said breathlessly as he hurried to lift his keys from his holster. "Someone's getting the hell beat out of them in cellblock 26."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His face twisted and she almost lost it right then.

"You know her," she continued gently, trying to control her voice so the anxiousness wouldn't show. "She helped us with the P.S. 163 case, remember that?" He stared at her with glassy eyes that were becoming brighter by the second. Olivia reached up to brush over his hairline. "She just wants to come say hello, Elliot. That's all…just to say hello."

He swallowed.

"Are…you going to leave?" he asked timidly.

His tone made her eyes well again. She closed them quickly and scooted closer to his side, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"No," she breathed sadly, shaking her head. "No, sweetie." Her hand began stroking the back of his head. "I'm going to be right here with you the entire time. I promise."

He sniffled and then tears were dripping down his face. Pursing her lips sadly, Olivia nuzzled his face tenderly with her nose and continued stroking his hair.

"Elliot," she murmured. "Baby, I promise you….she's not going talk about anything bad that happened. I promise you." She swallowed, kissing his temple lovingly. "She only wants to come say hi…you think you might be able to just say hi?"

He closed his eyes, sniffling. Instead of replying, he clutched her back with his hand and buried his face in her sweatshirt.

She rubbed over his back and shoulders as her tears slipped free. She swallowed silently, murmuring soothing words of praise into his ear.

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Doctor Olivet finished up the last paragraph of the case file she was busily reading and looked at her watch. She had told Olivia she would be there within the hour. It was now ten after four.

She highlighted the edge of the page she was on so as not to lose her place and then closed the file, setting it at the front end of her desk.

Getting to her feet, she went over to the bookcase to retrieve a blank tablet and set it on the desk. She lifted her work bag onto the top and put the pad inside, along with her pen and tape recorder, although she wasn't planning on using it.

Once she had everything, she sucked on her lip and walked over to the other end of the office towards the large box she had against the window. After about a minute of looking down and considering, she reached in and withdrew her choice. She closed the box and set the item into the bag as well.

Checking her watch as she slipped on her coat, Elizabeth grabbed the bag and her purse and walked to the door.

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It seemed ironic now that the moment that she had been waiting for all this time had her so scared that she could hardly think straight.

Taking a deep breath, Casey hunched under the desk and grasped the cardboard box by the edges. She lifted it up and set it down.

In order to proceed with a grand jury trial, she would have to be familiar with what happened to Elliot.

In order to be familiar with what happened, she was going to have to make Elliot talk about it.

Before she made him talk about it, she would have to be familiar with what took place.

And to do that, she would have to examine each piece of evidence to the point of knowing it from memory.

She drew in a breath and let it out heavily. As she lifted the top off, she discovered that her hands were shaking.

Ironic indeed.

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"Have…have you gone to see Elliot yet?"

With the exception of the murmur of thanks that morning, those were the first words his partner had said to him all day and they sliced intrusively through the tense silence of the cramped room.

Cragen had sent the two of them looking when the latest suspect they wanted for the rape of a university freshman came up with a false identification in the police database. They had been sitting in an upstairs file room for almost two hours now, pouring through multitudes of unsolved cases from the past year in search of the modus operandi they suspected for their rapist.

They only spoke to each other when necessary for their task, occasionally trading files back and forth with minimal eye contact.

John lost his place in the report he was scanning and looked up, surprised to meet Fin's dark stare squarely from across the room. The file his partner had been reading was suddenly lying abandoned across his knees and his face was drawn tense again.

He looked at him silently for a moment, appraising him as his brain processed what he had said in a delayed response.

"No," he finally said. Their gazes remained locked. "I haven't."

Just as quickly, their eyes broke away and darted for opposite walls awkwardly. He tried to force the guilt down and could feel the fiery burn in his chest that he had been managing to avoid since he had come back on duty.

Fin spoke again a moment later, not looking at him without realizing that John was looking in the opposite direction. "Have you called him?"

The tears slammed into his chest and he had to inhale deeply to ward them off. He swallowed hard, setting his jaw.

"No," he replied, barely audible.

The silence returned then. John closed his eyes against the wetness and then risked a glance up at his partner. Fin had picked the file back up, resuming his task.

He swallowed again, taking another pained breath as he tried to push the thoughts from his head.

Pages turned quietly. Fin set his folder down, marking something in blue ink before resting it on the tedious pile of hopefuls they had been compiling. John set his file aside and reached in for another

"I haven't, either."

The silence was broken again abruptly with the soft statement, the pain raw in the almost raspy words. He paused mid-stride and looked back at Fin again in surprise.

His partner was staring down at the file in his lap, his head bent low.

John felt the agony crush into his chest again.

They resumed working silently.

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His pen ran out of ink as he was signing the deposition for his newest case. Scowling, he tossed the black ballpoint into the trash can beside the desk and reached into the drawer, searching for another.

The phone beside his elbow rang and he raised his head.

"Hello," he answered, tucking the phone under his neck and stretching the cord as he continued his search.

"Is this Dwight Haskins?" a male voice said.

"Yes, it is," he answered absently, pawing through a mess of papers.

"Sir," the man continued, "This is Gary Owens, warden of the Erie County Holding Center. Am I correct in my information that you are currently working with a group of men we are holding in custody?"

His head came back up, his task forgotten.

"Yes," he repeated, wary now. "Is there a problem?"

Owens launched into the explanation for his call and Haskins sat back, stunned.

"Thank you for calling me," he said. "Tell them I'm on my way now."

They hung up. Dwight bristled in surprise again and immediately dialed his secretary.

"Glenda," he said into the phone. "Hold all my calls and appointments, please…something's come up. I have to go to Buffalo."

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Olivia's gaze floated up and across the room where Elizabeth remained standing patiently. Since her arms were occupied, she could only mouth a pained apology while pleading with her eyes for the woman not to be offended.

Doctor Olivet shook her head dismissively, indicating she didn't mind. She smiled gently and moved back to try and find a place to sit in the sparsely furnished apartment.

Blowing slightly through her cheeks, Olivia then returned her attention to her partner, huddled tightly against her with his face pressed into her neck. She stroked the back of his head in despair and bit her lip tearfully before glancing at the other woman once more.

The helplessness in her expression was clear. She felt horrible about it, but she just didn't know what to do.

But Doctor Olivet just smiled warmly and shook her head again to assure Olivia that everything was just fine.

She knew what to do. She wasn't offended and quite honestly had seen _far_ worse displays of discomfort from her presence. Some of the children she had seen in the past had expressed it with raging tantrums and violent outbursts of temper against her office and whatever was close enough for them to throw.

She knew the fear associated with trauma and she knew how strong of a hold it had. The fact that the current subject happened to be at least thirty years older than her normal age range of patients was as irrelevant as finding out one of her young patients happened to be a Martian.

Her job was to help.

"Hello, Elliot," she said kindly from her spot across the room. Her bag was lying comfortably across her lap and her hands were folded over it. "It's good to see you…I'm terribly sorry I haven't kept in touch with you guys since the last time we worked together."

Though she kept her expression calm and her attention focused, Olivia couldn't help the wave of admiration from coursing through her. The doctor was talking to them like she would at any moment in the precinct and didn't sound the least bit awkward with them having not really had time to speak more than a passing word in nearly six years.

She snuck a look down. Elliot hadn't moved.

"Olivia." The conversational tone continued as Elizabeth addressed her then, making her look back over in slight surprise. Doctor Olivet's face was open and friendly. "I hope you don't mind…I recognized your car in the parking lot and parked in the space beside it…I wasn't really sure if it belonged to someone or if I had to park in a certain place…?"

Still surprised, Olivia blinked and had to shake herself mentally for a moment before she could respond.

"Oh," she said, nodding. "No, that's fine…that space does belong to a man on the next floor, but he usually doesn't get home from work until six or so. That's fine."

"Oh, good." Elizabeth sounded audibly relieved as she nodded back, an easy smile remaining on her face. She shifted slightly to the left, crossing her legs comfortably in the chair. "By the way, I'm sorry it took me a little longer to arrive."

She seemed to be addressing both of them again and Olivia still couldn't keep the shock at what was going on from her mind.

Right then and there, she thanked God for this woman. She was the one person she had seen in six weeks who was actually talking her partner like he was Elliot and not like he was a victim.

"I'm in the middle of an adoption process at the moment," she continued in a bubbly voice. "The office called me just as I was getting ready to get into my car and told me that another family was looking to adopt the same boy as me…I got a little crazy."

That was news to Olivia, and startling at that. They weren't close, she actually probably wouldn't even consider them good friends, but she knew enough about the woman's profession to know that a child was a challenging feat considering the cases she worked with.

Deciding to take cues from her, Olivia added to the conversation in quiet intrigue while continuing to rub soothing circles on Elliot's back.

"Oh," she said in happy surprise. "I didn't know you were adopting…how old?"

Elizabeth's answering smile held indulgent pride. "Just turned two," she said. "I've already bought enough toys to spoil him rotten. He's so handsome and so sweet…I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on him."

Olivia smiled tenderly. "What's his name?"

"Panda," Doctor Olivet answered with a loving grin.

Olivia did a double take in shock and then chuckled in surprised affection.

"His last owner named him because of the big black ring around his left eye," she went on. "It's unusual to see on a Dalmatian but it really does make him look kind of like a panda bear."

The detective smiled again and then suddenly felt movement against her.

She was shocked and pleased to see him turning his head to rest sideways under her chin. Though still keeping a tight grip on her, he was now hesitantly gazing out at Doctor Olivet.

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. "You have a dog?"

She could feel the intensity in his stare and recognized the look well from so many years in practice. He was gauging her…deciding if he could trust her. She waited a moment before continuing nonchalantly when he didn't respond.

"Do you like dogs?" she asked pleasantly.

Olivia tried to keep her gaze as unobtrusive as she could knowing that if he felt her looking he would retreat again. But she couldn't keep the awe out of her eyes as she watched the two of them looking at each other, like opposite team members hesitant over whether to combine forces.

There was silence. The doctor's soft, grey eyes were gazing openly at her partner with kindness radiating and Olivia somehow knew that this moment was going to determine the history of whether or not he would be able to accept help.

She felt her heart starting to pound anxiously but swallowed quickly to try and not make it obvious.

Elliot blinked and appeared to be weighing the decisions in his head. His eyes narrowed.

Then he slowly nodded his head in response.

She watched the doctor's smile widen slightly without changing her expression. Olivia felt a tiny rush of excitement flutter in her heart but forced herself not to get her hopes up.

"What's your favorite?" Elizabeth asked passionately.

Olivia watched him stare at her some more and could feel his fingers gripping tighter every so often across her back.

"Great Dane," he answered softly after a long moment.

Her smile almost broke her face as she rubbed deeper circles into his back for a moment, trying to convey how happy she was with him.

Elizabeth's eyes danced merrily. "Wow, Great Dane," she said, sounding surprised. "Those things are like horses!" Her eyebrows jumped slyly. "Could you imagine having two of them? Think about how much fun _that_ would be walking down the street!"

It wasn't obvious. If she hadn't had her eyes trained on his face, Olivia doubted she would have ever known about it. It was only a flicker, a ghost compared to the past, and so quick that someone else might argue it didn't even matter at all.

But for her, the sight of his lips curling into a small smile for that brief moment made her so happy that her eyes welled before she could react.

Though she said nothing to indicate, Elizabeth saw it too.

Continuing to smile at him, she shifted the bag on her lap so that it was propped upright and saw his eyes watch her movements as she began digging inside the cloth canvas.

"I brought some cards," she said brightly, coming up with a standard deck in a small box. "What's your favorite game?"

Olivia closed her eyes, smiling in excitement and tearful joy.

_Rummy_, she answered right away silently.

She listened to the silence without opening her eyes. It stretched for a few long moments but she didn't want to open her eyes for fear of seeing the walls coming back.

Doctor Olivet smiled enticingly, cocking an eyebrow in invitation. She watched him bite his lip and look down, the bashful look that suddenly appeared on his face making her want to laugh and hug him at the same time.

"Rummy," he said shyly.

She nodded, holding out the box with a wide smile. "Would you like to play?"

His brow furrowed and he bit his lip, turning his face back against Olivia uncertainly. She hugged him warmly, smiling gently at Doctor Olivet.

"I'll play too," she murmured reassuringly. "If you want to, I can play too."

She felt him swallow and his face rested against her neck.

"It's okay," Elizabeth insisted softly, leaning forward. "Elliot…we don't have to." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "We can if you want but we don't have to."

He sighed shakily, swallowing again. After another minute he turned his face out again and nodded slowly.


	50. Chapter 50

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

His hand slapped down onto the card loudly, startling her as she was about to flick her own card down on top. She yelled out in surprise and then threw her head back, laughing.

"You!" she growled teasingly, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat. Olivia laughed from her position next to Elliot on the couch. "Well, there goes all of mine." She spoke with dry sarcasm, shaking her head. "Again."

Doctor Olivet scowled good-naturedly with a twinkle in her eye and addressed the other woman then. "I think we've got ourselves a card shark here," she said. Her tone was accusing.

Olivia smiled. "Hey….don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands. "I tried to tell you." She looked over at her partner and felt a pang in her heart when she saw that he was curled back up against the side of the couch, facing the window. She tried to keep her voice bright. "Now you know why I stopped after the first game. I'm not an idiot."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth put her cards down and then awkwardly began standing from where she had been folded on the floor beside the coffee table.

"I'm going to have head out now," she said in a reluctant voice, glancing at her watch. Her face split into a mischievous smile again as she looked at Elliot. "You wait…I'm going to be practicing. We'll see who beats who next time."

Her smile became strained when she realized Elliot wasn't looking or even seeming to be paying attention to her. Her face softened sympathetically and she looked over at the female detective with trepidation in her eyes. She saw the pain and anxiety on Olivia's face and hated what she had to do but knew it was for his sake.

They were finishing up her third visit to Olivia's apartment. Elizabeth knew that Elliot was still timid about her….each time she came it took them a good ten minutes to get him away from hiding in Olivia's embrace. He still had yet to speak directly to her without some sort of neutral prompting and the only time he seemed to not be drawn up like a spring was when they were playing some sort of card game.

Olivia wasn't having an easy time accepting her repeated assurances and the doctor was making sure that she did everything she could to try and make her comfortable too. Elizabeth made it a point to call her in the evenings following each of her visits to talk about how the day had seemed from her perspective and to offer encouragement.

Doctor Olivet knew about the situation looming ahead. Olivia had told her about the grand jury trial after the first day she had visited and about how she still couldn't bring herself to break the news to him, but it had taken a test of wills for her to even consider letting the doctor be the one to take care of it.

The woman cared about her partner so much. She was trying so hard to block every thing that might possibly cause him any distress with her own soul and Elizabeth knew that she couldn't keep it up much longer. She kept urging Olivia to think about her own health and stress capability but the woman seemed to only have a one-track mind that cut off with ensuring Elliot's safety.

She still didn't know if Olivia had indeed told him about the trial but made up her mind that tonight was the night she was going to have to nail it down. She knew Olivia was hurting after their last discussion, especially once she told her about her plans for the end of today's visit, but couldn't ignore her primary duty even despite her heartbreak for the other woman.

Standing to her feet, Doctor Olivet accepted the cards that Olivia had gathered for her and tucked them back into her cloth bag. She met the woman's gaze once more with tender assurance as she stepped around the coffee table.

Elliot recoiled immediately when he saw her coming closer to the couch and began inching towards Olivia, but the doctor only perched down on the edge of the coffee table, allowing him space but still wanting to be face-to-face. His partner responded with her arm warmly across his shoulders for reassurance.

"Tell me, Elliot," Elizabeth said gently. "Do you like having me come visit you?"

He only looked at her guardedly, his face expressing his uncertainty and apprehension about her unusual close proximity. His eyes darted over to Olivia to receive a tender smile of encouragement.

He swallowed and looked back at the doctor but didn't say anything.

She smiled kindly, continuing on as if he had spoken anyway. "Do you like it when we play cards?"

He swallowed again. His nod was slight and hesitant.

Olivia could feel his fingers gripping her shoulder and it broke her heart to feel his pulse racing through his muscles. She tried as hard as she could to let him feel her reassurance while dying inside at the anticipation of his reaction.

The doctor spoke gently, her voice soothing as she kept a warm expression on her face. "How about if we take this into my office next time?" she asked invitingly. "Do you think we could do that?"

Olivia watched his face crumble slightly in panic and then he was coming even closer to her side, nearly in her lap without realizing he was doing it. His face whipped towards her, eyes terrified and pleading.

She gave Elizabeth an apologetic gaze as she wrapped her other arm across his front. Doctor Olivet shook her head to indicate she didn't mind, continuing to smile.

"It's alright," she said easily. "You just think about it, okay?" She stood up again. "I've got a conference tomorrow, so I won't be able to come back until maybe Thursday. Would that be okay?"

Elliot was now pressing his face into her shoulder and gave no response. Olivia pursed her lips sympathetically and nodded gently. "That'll be fine."

She nodded and indicated for Olivia not to worry about getting up to let her out. The other woman looked at her gratefully while still apologizing with her eyes.

"I'll give you a call," she said, nodding again. "Bye, Elliot…bye, Olivia."

He sighed into her shoulder. She rubbed her hand tenderly across his back while watching the doctor open the door.

"Bye, Elizabeth," she said softly, smiling gently as the other woman turned back to close the door behind her.

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She was just about to close the front door behind her when the phone rang. Cursing lightly, Melinda pushed it back open and dashed through the screen door back into the house.

The phone rang three more times before she skidded to a stop in front of the breakfast bar and reached for it.

"Hello?" she answered breathlessly.

"Hi…Doctor Warner?"

Melinda recognized the voice but couldn't stop the surprise that welled up at hearing it through her house telephone. Though they professionally respected each other, she and Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak almost never socialized outside of work-related situations.

Which meant, she knew immediately, that most likely she was about to hear something that was going to make her tense.

"Casey," she replied, trying to swallow her sudden nervousness. "Hi…how are you?"

Forty miles away, seated behind her desk and anxiously tapping a pencil against the wood, Casey took a breath to calm her nerves.

_What the hell are you so uptight about? You've asked this of her __**how**__ many times before?_

She exhaled through her nose shakily.

_But how many of those times involved a close friend and circumstances that you still can't seem to believe are actually happening?_

"Doing well," she said, a little too quickly for fear of her breath exploding out. "Doing well." She swallowed and prayed the woman couldn't pick up on her nervousness. "Um…I hope I'm not interrupting something…."

"No," Melinda said, looking at her watch. "I'm just on my way to pick up my daughter from school." She paused, her brow furrowing. She didn't like the tone of the other woman's voice. "Is something wrong?"

Casey closed her eyes bitterly. _Damn it._

"Well…." Knowing that the word alone was the absolute wrong choice and immediately gave her away, the attorney hurried to get it over with. "Not _wrong_, exactly…I need to talk to you about the grand jury trial for Elliot's case."

Now she knew why the attorney sounded so edgy.

Momentarily ignoring the fact that she was going to be late if she didn't leave soon, Melinda sank down into the nearest bar stool with trepidation.

"You need me to testify to the rape examination," she surmised heavily.

"Yes," Casey answered, her voice equally as heavy. "I'm in the process of trying to reach the attending surgeon at Mercy General…you don't happen to remember his name, do you?" She said it absently, as if she wasn't really expecting an answer.

"Robert Beck," she answered without having to think about it.

There was a startled pause from the other end. "Oh," Casey said after a moment. "Well…thanks. Thanks, that saves me some time."

Uncomfortable silence fell between them again.

Melinda couldn't understand why the news had her heart feeling so heavy.

_She's asked this of me __**how**__ many times before?_

She blew out a breath, closing her eyes as her head sank slightly down.

_How many of those times involved a close friend and circumstances that you still can't believe actually happened?_

"Do you need the full report?" she finally asked, knowing that it varied depending on the case. "I've got the official printout and pictures in my office at the morgue."

"Not yet," she answered, sounding relieved. "I've got a copy of those here with the evidence, so when the time comes for the trial you don't need to worry about it. Right now I just need you to testify as to his condition and what you saw when you examined him." She paused. "I…I know it's been awhile, so if you needed to go back over them again I'd recommend doing it."

Melinda drew in a breath.

"When is it?" she asked evenly, evading the suggestion. "The grand jury hearing?"

"Right now, we're looking at the 26th of this month," Casey answered. "But depending on the judge it could be any time after the 22nd. I'll keep you updated."

There was no response, so after a moment she continued hesitantly.

"Listen….I know we're going to need to do a prep sometime beforehand but would it be alright if I took care of getting Elliot ready first?" She blew through her cheeks. "I…I have a feeling that it's going to take longer but…"

"Absolutely," she interrupted. She felt horrible just thinking about it. _God…poor Elliot…_ "Casey, he needs first priority. I'm off from work for the next week so right now anytime is fine…don't worry about that."

"Oh, good." The attorney sounded audibly more relieved. "Good. I'll try my best to have you in here by at least the 18th...we'll see how it goes depending on when I get in touch with the other doctor."

"Not a problem," Melinda said again. She glanced at her watch again. "Um, Casey…I'm sorry to cut you off but I really need to go. My daughter-"

"No, go ahead," she responded immediately. "I just wanted to make sure to give you a heads up." Though her tone was light, the somberness was obvious as she added quietly, "Not that anyone really needs it."

Melinda couldn't remember saying goodbye or hearing the other woman say it. She realized with a start after a moment that there was a dial tone in her ear and robotically hung the phone back up.

She mechanically picked her keys back up and went back to the front door, but her earlier bounce was now gone.

Casey was a hundred percent accurate on that one. No one needed a heads up for this one.

Even though she would, there really was no need to go back over the results for examination number 1094.

She doubted she'd ever forget them.

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She couldn't mask the confusion in her voice when Olivia called and requested that she not bring the kids back with her that night to see their father, but the defeated tone in her voice made Kathy agree without probing.

Olivia had told her about the start of Doctor Olivet's visits but hadn't gone into detail about them. Now that she was aware that two more had occurred since then, Kathy had mixed feelings and didn't know what to do with them.

There was intense pain at the thought of what Elliot had gone through…she still was having trouble actually coming to terms with it after almost three months. With that came the fear that she selfishly was struggling to keep from allowing recognition.

Elliot Stabler had the power to infuriate her. He knew how to annoy her and he knew how to make her so happy that she could almost burst. He was selfish, pig-headed, stubborn, incredible, delightful, and unbelievable while still maintaining a smile and a pair of baby blues that to this day made her heart melt.

Even during a difficult marriage there had still remained a childlike expectation that he would always be her hero…her Prince Charming. No matter what they experienced, he could still slay dragons and fight flaming swords to protect her and their children.

She just still couldn't believe that even a person like that could be broken. It was so frightening…so unreal. She believe it.

Then there was the uncertainty of her standing.

They had broken each other's hearts. They had grown into a shaky marriage to discover the terrifying reality of a life spent more out of force than dreams. They had become strangers and enemies at times.

But she was still listed as his next of kin. He was still the beneficiary of her life insurance policy. She suspected he was as scared of making the changes as she was even with the official divorce title because they always avoided the topic whenever it came up.

So what did she do in a time like this?

It was painful to realize that no one had thought of considering her input when deciding how to help him. It was painful to find out that the man she had made love to for over twenty years was self-mutilating and she hadn't had a clue about it. It was painful to see his work family being relied on to care for him instead of his blood family.

It was painful to see him seeking comfort from his work partner instead of his life partner and having to act like it wasn't.

The road in front of her became blurry as the tears began falling down her face. She wiped them quickly, forcing herself to concentrate on her driving as she continued to Olivia's apartment.

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She blew through her cheeks and shook her head, listening for the sound of the water running to confirm that Kathy was still in the bathroom helping him with his shower.

Doctor Olivet responded with gentle kindness and the same unwavering reassurance that she was famous for.

"We'll just have to be patient, Olivia," she said. "It's going to take small steps."

Olivia shook her head negatively but sighed, sucking on the inside of her cheek. There was a long moment of tense silence and the doctor didn't break it.

"What kinds of small steps?" she finally asked reluctantly.

Sitting on her sofa, pajama-clad legs curled up underneath her body, Elizabeth smiled with relief before answering.

"Start out basic," she encouraged. "Take him outside when the weather gets nice." Sensing Olivia about to protest about the last attempt, she hurried on quickly. "You don't have to go anywhere…sit on the stoop in front of the building if you have to. Help him get comfortable with being outdoors."

Olivia exhaled heavily. "Okay," she said wearily.

"How are his nightmares?" Doctor Olivet continued, knowing the other woman had voiced her concern about them the last time they had spoken. "Any better?"

"No," she answered. "Not at all."

She nodded as if the detective were beside her.

"Well, that's going to take time, too," she reminded her softly. She pursed her lips gently, almost feeling the frustration coming from the other end. "The best thing I can tell you to do is just give him whatever he needs at the time. If he wants to talk about it, encourage him. If not, don't force it."

Olivia swallowed. "Alright," she echoed.

Her voice was shaking slightly now and Doctor Olivet knew she was reaching the brink of composure. It was with some hesitation that she continued.

"Okay." She blew out a breath slightly. "Once we begin visits at my office, I'll start trying to get him comfortable with his testimony…"Olivia slammed her eyes shut as pain overwhelmed her. "But…I have to be honest with you, Olivia. I can't guarantee anything. If I can't get him to talk about it…"

Her words remained open but it was more than obvious to both of them. If he wouldn't talk about it, a testimony would be out of the question.

Olivia exhaled and the words rushed out quicker than she intended. "Elizabeth, he doesn't know about the trial yet." Anguish laced her voice. "I just…I haven't..."

The doctor's words softened. "I'll take care of it," she said gently. "Once he gets comfortable with being at my office, I'll tell him about it."

There was an anxious sigh from the other end and Elizabeth grimaced sympathetically. She began to speak but Olivia did before she could.

"It's going to kill him," she said painfully. "I can't…"

Her voice broke then and she closed her eyes, her elbows sinking to rest on the table in front of her.

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It was almost nine pm when she finally made it back to Gresham Hall dorm. She stopped in front of room A607 and slid her key into the lock, sighing wearily as she pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Becky was sitting at her desk across the room, typing on her laptop intently. She swiveled around slightly when Maureen came inside the room and smiled lightly.

"Hey," she said.

Maureen flung her backpack onto her bed dismissively and flopped down after it, stretching across the twin mattress wearily.

"Hey," she replied rather awkwardly.

Roommates at New York University were randomly assigned unless students made arrangements to live with a friend and she hadn't known Rebecca Carhart from Adam at the beginning of the semester. They weren't really what she would consider friends and their social circles were complete opposites, but they were making efforts to be comfortable around each other.

The petite brunette pursed her lips gently, hesitating a moment while still turned to face her.

"So…you were visiting your dad?' she finally asked tentatively.

It was a big campus and she wasn't very well-known, but those who did know her knew about what had happened. Becky always made a point to ask how her dad was doing and though she appreciated her roommate's attempt to express that she cared, Maureen sometimes honestly wished that she wouldn't ask.

The pain cut deep but she buried it inside.

"No," she answered quietly. "Not tonight."

Something in her tone must have clued Becky in that it was a touchy subject because she just nodded.

"Oh," she said quietly.

There was a moment of awkward silence as she continued to stare in concern before quietly turning back around to her computer.

Maureen sighed again and turned further into the pillow, for the moment wishing she could just close her eyes until the morning.

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He opened his eyes with a start to find himself alone in darkness. Drenched in sweat and shaking, he blinked and tried to orient himself.

Fear and loneliness made his chest feel like it was caving. He let out a strangled cry of anguish as their faces began floating away again, leaving him trapped and alone on the beach once more.

Then suddenly a light was on and his partner was there, her voice soothing as she appeared next to his head.

"It's okay….shh, it's okay," she said anxiously, her voice slightly husky with grogginess. Her cool hands caressed his sweating forehead and then her face was next to his, her nose and lips grazing the side of his face. He felt her hand squeeze his as he tried to breathe. "I'm here, Elliot. You're alright, honey."

His breath was rapid and deep as he exhaled several times and then he was overwhelmed with exhaustion. Desperately clinging to her hand, he struggled to lean forward so that he could feel her, keep her with him.

Olivia hugged him warmly and let him rest his head against her neck while he tried to slow down his breathing,

She raked her nails gently into his scalp, making him shudder involuntarily and arch into the pleasing feeling. His eyes struggled to remain open and she kissed his temple lovingly, stroking his cheek.

"Where's Rabbit?" she asked tenderly, looking around even as she spoke for the plush object that he always slept with.

He sniffled and began looking around him with exhausted eyelids. She spotted brown plush wedged between the arm of the couch and the cushion and smiled.

"Found him," she said, reaching to pull it out.

He let out a breath and closed his fist around the animal's middle when she pressed it gently against his chest. Feeling safe at last, it was only then he allowed his eyes to close and she felt his body go limp almost instantly as the fatigue took him back into oblivion.

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There was a message waiting for her when she got to the office. Casey paused beside the secretary's desk and took the slip of paper the woman held out to her with a polite thank-you before continuing to dig for her keys.

She scanned over it as she unlocked her office door, her eyebrows rising in surprise at the unexpected words.

**Date: 1/17/07**

**Received at: 7:43 am**

**For: Casey Novak**

**From: Dwight Haskins**

**Message:**

Call as soon as possible.

(683)219-3421

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"Come on, honey." She tried her absolute hardest to keep her voice as gentle as possible despite her frustration. "I really…you need to drink all of it. Please."

She raised the glass of Ensure once more with a pleading expression. He scowled.

"I don't _want_ any more," he enunciated in over-exaggerated fashion, his bitterness obvious.

"Elliot…" Olivia bit her lip, tapping into a store of patience she was worried wouldn't hold out much longer. "Sweetheart…I'm sorry." She pursed her lips and moved her hand to his shoulder.

He recoiled, pulling out of her reach and she swallowed. Her hand came back down against her knee.

"You have to keep drinking it," she said firmly. "The doctor said three cans a day…Elliot, you're barely pushing two." She softened her voice and blew through her cheeks lightly. "I'm sorry….I'm so sorry."

The look in his eyes was too much. When she felt his hand take the glass back from her, she had to look away.

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"Hello."

She tried to keep the annoyance from her voice. Even knowing that she wasn't succeeding…she really didn't care.

"What's so urgent, Haskins?" Casey asked dryly without bothering to go through formalities. "Let me just tell you…if you even _attempt_-"

"I'm in Buffalo, Novak." His words were so surprising that she was momentarily speechless. "There's been a rather…violent confrontation among some of my clients and I was asked to intervene."

"My heart bleeds." The bitter words were out of her mouth before she even thought about them and surprised even her.

"Look," Dwight snapped. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't even waste the breath to _call_ you, so just save the juvenile crap." She scowled, lifting her mug to her mouth. "I'll be speaking to Judge Verella this morning…I'm sure once I'm through he'll have no problem seeing the need to move up the grand jury trial in order to start proceedings as soon as possible."

She almost spit out her coffee.

"What?" she sputtered, swallowing quickly. "You…" She could hardly form sentences through her outrage. "I…" Exhaling in frustration, Casey shook her head in utter amazement. "How in the hell…can you be so _heartless?_ Are you making it your own personal crusade to make things as difficult on Detective Stabler as you possibly can?"

"That is so off-base that I can't even come up with an appropriate response," he growled, the ferociousness in his voice unexpected. "My job is to defend the accused…don't you dare insult my morality. I saw the man myself, for God's sake…it made me sick to see how he looked. No one deserves to feel pain like that."

She was so stunned by his admission that she could only sit motionless.

Judging by the silence that filled the phone, he apparently was stunned himself.

"I….I'm sorry," she finally stammered, feeling her face heating involuntarily. The words felt awkward and intimidating in her mouth. "You're right. That was….that was a cheap shot. I apologize."

"Don't make this personal," he continued angrily. "I'm here to do my job. My obligation…my professional loyalty….is to my clients and I intend to do everything I can to help their favor."

He sneered into the phone without being able to help it. "It's not up to us to decide guilt, Novak. If this is how you approach all of your cases, maybe you should consider a career change."

He hung up sharply, simply too disgusted to want to hear any more.

Casey realized her hand was shaking as she slowly lowered the phone down. Swallowing, she sat back in her chair.

Her vision began blurring despite her best attempts to stop it.

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Elliot remained pressed tight against the side of the couch, his face resting limply on the large pillow she had given him to sleep with the night before. One hand was clutching a blanket up near his chin to keep it in place where it was spread over his body.

Sitting by his feet, Olivia flipped through the channels for the second time. She scowled at finding nothing besides the noon news and old cooking shows playing before absently letting the remote fall from her hands onto the couch.

"Want to watch a movie?" she asked, looking over at him.

The misery on his face was obvious as he just blinked without replying. She sucked in her lip nervously.

"I think I have some cards around here somewhere," she tried again, hoping her voice sounded brighter than she thought it did. "Want me to see if I can find them?"

She heard his breath hitching by that point and she suddenly felt so helpless that it made tears come to her eyes. Getting up, she came over a few steps so that she could crouch beside his face and lifted her hand to rest on his temple.

"Elliot," she said painfully.

His face twisted when her hand made contact and when she spoke tears made their way onto the pillow beneath him. She had to swallow to keep from sobbing before she could speak again.

"Sweetheart…how can I help you? What can I do?" She swallowed again. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"

He sobbed into the pillow and turned his face away from her.

Her tears crashed out then. Stroking his temple, Olivia cried beside him without attempting to make him turn back toward her.

"I love you," she choked out in anguish. Her fingers stroked his hair mechanically. "You're wonderful…you bring me so much joy, Elliot."

She swallowed and made sure to keep reassurance in her voice as she brought her other hand to his back. "It's okay…I don't mind sitting here with you. Nothing makes me happier."

His back heaved with each sob as he quietly cried against the back of the couch without turning back toward her.

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She exhaled nervously as she entered the office of her boss. Branch eyed her coolly and raised an eyebrow in greeting but said nothing, his face remaining in the gruff expression it was always in.

"She's here, Judge," he said toward the phone.

"Afternoon, Ms. Novak," Judge Verella said cordially.

Casey moved to stand beside the desk. "Hello, your Honor."

"Is it alright to take over, Arthur?" the judge asked.

The District Attorney replied immediately. "All yours, sir," he said.

"Thank you," Verella said. "Uh, Ms. Novak….I've got Dwight Haskins here in my office with me…he's informed me of an altercation between a few of the defendants while in the custody of the Erie County Holding Center." He paused. "I assume you are aware of this?"

She clenched her teeth and made sure to keep the dryness from her voice when addressing the judge. "Yes, sir," she said. "I found out about it this morning, sir."

"Then I assume you are also aware of his request to move up the date of the grand jury trial," he continued.

"Yes," she said.

"Well, good," Verella said abruptly. "Then we're on the same page." He paused slightly. "I realize that both sides are equally entitled to fair and speedy representation…but I can't ignore this."

She felt a slight lump forming in her throat.

"I can't allow the defendants to remain in holding when it becomes a danger to their safety," he went on. "Now, Ms. Novak…." He sighed softly. "I understand the victim needs time to prepare and I sympathize with the pain he is having to endure."

He really did sound sympathetic. She didn't know why, but it surprised her.

"However, I happen to agree with Mr. Haskins," he said. "Therefore, I'm going to have to declare the date of the grand jury trial moved."

The lump had become a boulder, sliding from her throat all the way to her stomach.

_Jesus…_

"Yes, sir," she replied quietly.

"Instead of Friday, the 26th," he went on. "The date will now become Monday, the 22nd for grand jury proceedings and the official start of trial will take the place of the original schedule on that Friday." His voice became slightly distant. "Mr. Haskins, you are to have the first group ready and prepared for this time. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your Honor." She heard Haskins' voice on the other end as well.

"Ms. Novak? Is there any reason why you feel you won't be able to comply with this?" Verella continued.

_Oh…you mean besides the fact that now I've got __**four days **__to prepare my friend to reveal the most painful experience of his life? _

She inhaled.

"No, Sir," she said quietly.

"Very well," the judge said. "Then I suppose I'll be seeing both of you very soon. Good day."

Branch leaned over to hang up once the line went dead. He raised his eyes to look at her, biting his lip and preparing to say something. But she just shook her head and turned around, leaving the office quietly before he had the chance.

She made it outside the office and then sank down into the nearest chair lining the hallway. Her head went down to meet her hands and she pressed her palms into her eyes hard, sighing heavily.

_Why didn't I just stay with white collar crime?_


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the slight delay…final exams kicked my butt this week. I don't think I slept for four days. Anyway, here's an extra long chapter to make up for my stress. I hope people are still into this, I really am putting so much work into it. Please review if you read, it helps so much. Thanks.**

The irritatingly loud, insanely high-pitched buzzer made him jump only moments after finally achieving the beginnings of the REM cycle he had been trying to fall into for the past two hours and he growled loudly in frustrated anger.

The two guards switching shifts from evening to graveyard cracked a few jokes and exchanged parting words with boisterous, enthusiastic tones as if not noticing that fifty-five men were sleeping in iron-barred cells all around them.

Jesse scowled.

_They notice. They just don't give a fuck._

His new cell was now right behind the desk that the guard officer occupied all day and his bed gave him a perfect view of the backside of the one about to leave for the night. The new guard made another joke about living somewhere and talking to somebody's wife and he could see the other cop's shoulders shake as he laughed.

Like a fucking hyena. Nerve-grating and too loud and too long and making Jesse scowl even harder.

_Fucker's doing it on purpose._

They were all the same…all of them. These guys and the assholes who had made him go through fifteen hundred God-damned interrogation tactics in Manhattan and those shit-faces in the Mid-State Correctional Facility where he had been robbed of half a fucking year of his life….locked them up in cages and acted like they were lower than the shit on their shoe but if their guns and nightsticks were taken away would piss themselves if one of their prisoners ever got a chance to get them alone.

Sighing miserably, Jesse flopped his head uncomfortably back down on the hard pallet mattress and stared back up at the mildew-stained ceiling of his cell.

He wondered if Detective Elliot Stabler was like that.

EJ certainly seemed to think so….Jason too.

The sharp throb that he had somehow grown accustomed to during the night returned the moment he allowed one second to focus on it and he winced, reaching up to rub his jaw painfully. Christ, could EJ pack a punch. He didn't think he had ever heard his mouth make a popping sound like that….he had honestly almost expected to see his bottom teeth jutted sideways out of his mouth when he had looked in the infirmary mirror.

In hindsight, it probably hadn't been the brightest idea to spill about what he had told those cops. He guessed it was just pure dumb luck that had the guard walking by their cell before the others could join Jason and EJ in kicking his guts out.

He'd thought having to sleep on stone floor while listening to someone snoring like a jet engine in the bunk above him was bad enough…after they had all been forced to move into separate cells he had found out that one of the three guys he was now sharing with seemed to save up all of his gas until after lights out so that he could expel silent but deadly fumes right above his head as he went to sleep.

Sucking in a frustrated breath when he couldn't maneuver his head comfortably, Jesse pounded the side of the cheap mattress.

Fucking EJ. God…he should have known the moment his brother came to see him in the correctional facility that he needed to send him the fuck away. Ethan Jones only looked out for Ethan Jones. He never did a thing for anyone unless it would somehow give him a direct benefit. Anyone who ever _met_ the man could figure that out after about five seconds.

Even so…even with only an occasional word from his mom letting him know when EJ got into some trouble or discovering when he was fifteen that his brother was now doing hard time for drug possession…he still wouldn't in his wildest dreams have thought Ethan Jones would be capable of the malice he had unknowingly found himself in the middle of.

His stomach turned and he found himself shuddering as his brain involuntarily conjured up memories of lying upstairs in the house next to the open window, letting the breeze come inside in the early morning hours and allowing him perfect reception to hear the agonized screams on the beach a few miles away.

He remembered the fear that he had felt thinking it had to be impossible that there wasn't someone around that was going to call the cops.

His guts rolled around again and he closed his eyes in shame.

Maybe it had just been wishful thinking on his part.

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Doctor Olivet had told Olivia the night before that she would look for them to arrive at her office at around noon and that if they didn't make it she would have no problem coming back to her apartment. Even so, she had gently urged her several times to try her best to get Elliot to agree to come to her, saying the visit itself wasn't as important as his adjusting to some semblance of normalcy.

Deep down Olivia knew that the other woman was right and that she needed to look out for her partner's best interest. But it still killed her to think about making him do it.

Her footsteps were soft when she walked into the living room carrying a bottle of water and his morning medicine. He was lying on his side and when she got close enough, she saw the evidence on his face of a night spent crying in his sleep without letting her know.

Her heart aching, she reached out to gently grip his shoulder and leaned forward to press a light kiss to the side of his cheek.

"Time to wake up," she whispered tenderly, bringing her other hand up to gently massage the base of his neck.

He inhaled sleepily and murmured sourly, nuzzling his face further into the pillow. Smiling, Olivia hooked her chin over his shoulder to hug him loosely.

"Out of bed, sleepyhead," she teased in a slightly song-like voice before pushing herself back upright.

With a sound crossing something between a groan and a growl, Elliot reluctantly opened up his eyes to stare at her. She smiled affectionately.

"Hi," she said, reaching beside her for the water bottle. She brought into his line of sight with an enticing expression. "Thirsty?"

His eyes took on a look of longing as he stared at the liquid and he nodded immediately. She reached behind him to bring his pillow up to support his back before helping him sit up and handing him the bottle.

The stark white gauze on his forearm stood out in harsh reminder when he reached for it, as if she needed a reason not to forget it was there. She carefully collected the two pills into her palm and brought them forward rather reluctantly while he had a few sips, expecting the inevitable struggle that always occurred when getting him to take his medication.

But to her surprise, he took the pills without question and washed them down without a word. He drank another few sips and then handed the water back, curling into the pillow behind him without really looking at her.

His weary, drooping expression made her heart constrict so tightly that she had difficulty drawing a breath

_God…I can't do this. I can't do this to him._

Swallowing hard, she set the water on the coffee table and crouched in front of him.

"Elliot?" she said softly.

His eyes came up to hers and she crumbled inwardly at the first glance into them.

_I don't want to do this to you. Please…please understand that. I hate that I have to do this to you…I'd rather saw off my arm than make you go through this._

She took a deep breath, swallowed, and exhaled. Reaching out, she gently smoothed his temple with her finger and bit her lip.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," she said.

She wasn't sure if the tone of her voice clued him in on something or if her body language made it obvious, but his features changed instantly to convey nervousness and fear. It was as if he could sense that she was about to deliver a crushing blow and was begging with his eyes for her not to.

Olivia swallowed again, unable to stop her face from twisting painfully.

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She waited until she heard the sound of her teacher's heels becoming distant before sneaking a look around the monitor. The woman was approaching the desk of Bobby Fuller, who had his hand raised and was busy pounding in irritation on his keyboard.

Satisfied that her attention would be diverted for at least a short while, Elizabeth moved the mouse over and minimized the screen for the government website that she was supposed to be perusing. She pulled up the toolbar and quickly clicked on the link for Internet Explorer.

Upon seeing the search engine, she paused to glance to her left and right again to see if anyone was paying attention to her before moving the cursory into the text box.

She quickly typed "psychological effects of kidnapping" and pressed Enter.

Pages of results appeared in almost seconds. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, she scanned the numerous links and clicked absently on the second one.

**EMOTIONAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA**

**Causes, Symptoms, Effects**

_It is not the event that determines whether something is traumatic to someone, but the individual's __**experience**__ of the event_

_An emotional trauma contains three common elements:_

_-it was unexpected_

_-the person was unprepared_

_-there was nothing the person could do to prevent it from happening_

Her throat began to close. She paused to take a breath before moving to a different link.

_Symptoms of Emotional Trauma:_

_-depression, spontaneous crying, hopelessness_

_-panic attacks_

_-fearfulness_

_-withdrawal from normal routine or relationships_

Tears began to cloud the screen in front of her.

She thought back to the night before, when her mom had suddenly told them that they would have to change their plans of going to see their dad.

"_He's just not feeling up to it tonight," she said. "We should let him rest."_

The thought literally made her sick to her stomach. Was this what her dad was going through? Was that why they had only seen him maybe three times since the entire ordeal began?

Panic attacks….fearfulness…**spontaneous crying?**

_Is this common for everyone? Does this happen to every person? _

_Is this happening to my dad right now?_

"Psst….psst. Stabler."

The hiss from behind her made Elizabeth jump and minimize the screen as quickly as she could.

When she twisted around in her seat, the sight of Derek Mitchell leaning out of his chair towards where she sat made her scowl. He was a constant slacker, hated by practically every teacher in the school, and was always trying to mooch for answers from the "smart kids" in class.

"What?" she asked crossly.

"What did you get for number five?" he asked, looking back toward the worksheet sitting at the desk that they were all supposed to be gathering research for.

"Go away, Derek," she said in irritation, glowering at him before turning back around.

"Come on!" he persisted. "No one's doing this dumb shit anyway…just tell me, come on."

"No!" she hissed over her shoulder.

"Elizabeth?"

The sound of the teacher's voice made her head snap up fast and she stared guiltily into the eyes of the older woman who had suddenly appeared near her. Behind her, Derek was angelically typing away as if nothing had happened.

"Do you have a question?" she continued sternly.

Feeling her face heating, Elizabeth discreetly moved her mouse to exit out of the browser as she pulled the government page back up.

"No," she said, biting her lip.

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She came back carrying both of their coats to see him still curled up against the back of the couch. Her eyes welled up instantly but she forced herself to stay composed, remembering the words of the doctor.

"_Help him get comfortable with being outdoors."_

"…_small steps, Olivia…small steps."_

"Here you go," she said softly, draping her coat over the side.

He shook his head into the cushion. Closing her eyes painfully, Olivia set his coat down next to hers and then sat carefully down near him. She laid a gentle hand on his back.

"What's the matter?" she murmured softly. She listened to his breath hitch as he cried quietly. "You don't want to see Doctor Olivet?" Her hand rubbed gently across his back as she spoke in a soothing tone. "She really wants to see you….she said she wants a slapjack rematch."

She could feel the skin under her hand quivering and heard him sniffle. Sucking in her lip anxiously, she tried hard to keep her voice sounding controlled.

"And guess what else?" she went on tenderly. "Kathy called this morning…she's going to take an early lunch and come meet us afterward. We can go to the park…." She tried to sound as enticing as she could. "Wouldn't it be neat if we saw some Great Danes there?"

He sniffled again and turned his face slightly toward her while keeping it pressed tightly into the couch. His red eyes dripping tears made her heart break and she just wanted to take him in her arms right then.

"I want to stay here," he said shakily. "Olivia, I want to stay here."

Her face twisted painfully as she reached up to cup his cheek.

"I know," she said tearfully, swallowing. "Sweetheart, I know you want to stay here…what about if we just go this once and see how you like it? We'll come right back as soon as we're done, if you want." She stroked gently over soaked skin. "You want to just try it once?"

He bit his lip, shaking his head. Olivia leaned over to kiss his cheek. Seeing his distraught expression, she pursed her lips sadly and reached over to gently pick up his stuffed rabbit.

"Here," she said gently, setting it into his lap as he sniffled. "How about you bring him with us? I bet he could use some fresh air too."

He didn't reply, but he immediately took the plush against his chest and dropped his face into it.

"Please, honey," she said, her voice beginning to break slightly. "Elliot…I promise you nothing will happen if we leave. I _promise_." She pursed her lips tearfully. "I won't let anything happen."

He sniffled and shook his head into the plush rabbit, but his eyes came up to look at her.

"I'm afraid," he whispered in anguish, the words barely audible around the fur.

Olivia grimaced sadly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek when he dropped his eyes in shame.

"Hey," she said, drawing his eyes back up when she cupped his face with both hands. She smiled tenderly and smoothed his cheeks gently. "Elliot, it's okay. I know you're afraid and it's okay."

She bit her lips slightly, trying to keep the reassurance on her face. "We'll take it slow…it's just a short ride to her office and we can come right back. We don't have to go to the park if you don't want to…we can just come right back."

He sucked in his lip uncertainly.

"Right back?" he said softly, his eyes pleading.

She nodded. "Right back," she repeated. "I promise." She reached forward to take his hand gently. "You can trust me, sweetheart. I promise nothing is going to happen."

Though he said nothing, his eyes clearly displayed his uncertainty as he kept his hold on the rabbit. But he didn't resist when Olivia took a chance and picked up his coat, holding it out to help him into it.

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Perched on the side of Olivia's desk and busily discussing the different possible scenarios with the group of detectives around him, the captain didn't notice when she came walking slowly into the squad room. Only when Munch suddenly got a pensive expression on his face and stepped quickly toward the middle of the room did he realize she had come in.

"Casey," Don said in surprise when he turned to see who had entered. "Hi." The look of regret on her face stirred his insides nervously and he knew right away that something wasn't right. "What's wrong?"

Alerted by the tension in the air, the others became wary and moved away from the loose group they had been gathered in as she stopped near Cragen's side.

Fin was stunned and horrified to see that the blonde attorney's sage-green eyes looked almost black with murkiness. He had never seen them that way before.

She seemed dead on her feet as she leaned her hand against the desk and sighed heavily.

"Haskins got called in to Buffalo night before last," she said flatly. "Apparently some of the defendants got into some kind of physical altercation that sent one of them to the infirmary."

John's lip curled in loathing and disdain out of reflex.

J_ust one? Fuckers. Too bad it wasn't all of them._

"He proposed that speeding up the trial process is necessary for the safety and well-being of his clients and Judge Verella agreed with him," she went on. She shook her head in defeat and her voice became strained. "He ordered Elliot to testify on Monday before the grand jury and trial proceedings to start on Friday morning."

The detectives were silent with shock.

Fin felt his stomach fall to his feet. He gaped at her in appalled astonishment, his brain momentarily unable to form coherent thought.

John's insides churned sickeningly, threatening to expel right there on the squad room floor.

Cragen swallowed several times, obviously fighting to stay in control. Casey was looking at the ground and avoiding their eyes. He could see the distress clearly in the unusual hunching of her normally confident posture. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then opened it again.

"Do they know?" he asked gravely.

He didn't need to specify. They all knew who he was talking about without even having to think about it.

Her eyes came up and he saw the answer before she spoke. She shook her head, looking as close to tears as any of them had ever seen before.

"Not yet," she said softly.

Cragen swallowed slowly, his heart beginning to ache painfully. The detectives around him were looking at the ground or fixating on a certain area of the room in effort to mask their emotions.

Leveling his gaze, he slowly stood up away from the desk.

"I think he deserves to hear it in person," he said quietly.

He began striding toward his office without another word, his gait purposed and determined. John glanced at Casey to see her looking back at him with anxiety and uncertainty.

"What-?" Munch found himself pushing through the others and following the captain's wake without thinking about it. "Captain….are you sure that's a good idea?"

His voice rang louder than he thought it would in the tense quiet that had taken over the room and he stopped immediately in apprehension, grimacing uncomfortably.

Cragen stopped abruptly just inside the open office door, making his breath catch nervously. The others around him were deadly silent as they watched the captain stand still without turning to face them for several seconds and John wondered for a brief moment if he was intentionally trying to get himself fired.

Don took a deep breath and slowly turned around. His gaze swept over John, looking like he felt sick, before traveling to the rest of his detectives and Casey, all of whom were staring at him in close-mouthed nervousness.

He slowly dragged his eyes back to Munch and the detective was startled to see his expression become defeated when he finally spoke.

"I don't know," he said wearily, shaking his head in frustration. "I don't know if it's a good idea, I don't know that it won't make things harder…" He trailed off for a moment in utter helplessness. "I…I really don't think I know for sure of anything anymore."

He continued looking over them, feeling his despair leaking out into his words.

"All I do know," he continued to say heavily, "is that Elliot hasn't seen anything out of us to indicate that we've even thought about him since practically the very night we rescued him."

His face twisted ever so slightly but returned to hardness so fast that they weren't sure if they saw it.

"That's a disgrace of me as a captain and a failure as a unit." He shook his head. "If we can't be a team when one of our own needs it more than ever…why even have a squad?"

Expressions of shame and pain fell on faces in front of him and they looked away from each other. Cragen pursed his lips gently, regarding all of them with the same expression.

He was just as guilty.

"I'm going over there today," he said determinedly with a small shrug. "Anyone who wants to join me can join me." He paused. "Anyone who doesn't…"

He shrugged again and fell silent, looking at them intently. After a moment he turned around and continued back into the office.

The detectives remained quiet and motionless where they stood, each one battling his own demons and trying not to let it show.

Casey was right there with them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He was only able to use his left hand and the weak grip that was struggling so hard to keep her in its grasp was heartbreaking. All traces of composure had fled the instant Doctor Olivet had said the words and he was pleading in agony as he desperately tried to keep his hold on her waist.

"No," he whimpered, his voice wavering. "Don't go, please don't go. Stay here."

Olivia felt like she was going to throw up. She was forced to step closer to the wheelchair to keep him from falling out of it when he refused to let go of her. Seeing the other woman getting up slowly from her chair made his adrenaline race and he lost control, bursting into agonized tears as he fumbled to cling even harder to her.

"Please," he choked, beginning to sob as he shook his head desperately. "I want to go home….don't leave, don't leave me. Please, Olivia, please."

"Elliot."

Doctor Olivet spoke gently, coming carefully towards his side without intruding. Her voice was calm and patient.

"I just want to visit with you for a few minutes," she went on tenderly. "Look….look, Elliot." She gestured toward the open office door to the chair sitting by the wall directly across the hall. "Olivia is just going to sit right there…right there. You'll be able to see her the entire time."

He appeared to ignore her completely, having managed to pull the chair close enough to his partner to allow him to dig his fingers into her side and press his face against her stomach in a savage attempt to keep her from moving. His shoulders shook as he gasped out sobs into her sweater.

Elizabeth saw the agony on the other woman's face and knew that unless she intervened now, Olivia would most likely not be able to take anymore and abort the whole idea.

She met the detective's eyes and raised an eyebrow slightly to convey her request as respectfully as possible. Though she appeared to age before Elizabeth's very eyes, she gracefully and extremely selflessly closed her eyes and nodded.

Olivia swallowed hard and slowly but gently took his hand in hers to pull it away from her body. He wailed when she stepped back out of his reach, forcing him to break contact, and she was unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face as she carefully crouched in front of the chair.

She reached out to cup his face and looked at him tenderly.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to go anywhere," she said painfully. "I promise you I'm going to be right here the whole time. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be right there across the hall."

She nodded tearfully. "You'll be alright. You will, Elliot. I promise."

Unable to look into his crushed, abandoned expression, she quickly lifted herself slightly to lovingly kiss his forehead. She allowed herself to stroke over his face once more before getting to her feet.

Elizabeth nodded in thanks as she walked the few steps toward the open door but she couldn't look back to see it. It took everything in her to keep going amidst the sound of his painful sobs.

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"Hey, Kath?"

The intrusion broke her concentration and she faltered in her reading, pursing her lips in slight frustration as she placed her thumb over the words so as not to lose her place in the thick document she had been precariously combing through for the past hour.

The blonde turned around in her chair and looked toward the door to see Heather Smith leaning the upper half of her body into the small office.

She did a double-take before involuntarily bursting into laughter and Heather grinned devilishly as she discreetly peeked around to be sure her boss wasn't in the near vicinity.

The neat, classic button-down blouse that she had arrived to work in that morning had suddenly been replaced with a corset-style, breast-baring, practically transparent black tunic top that looked like something out of an epic romance movie.

"Lunch date?" Kathy managed to gasp out through her giggles. The lanky blonde strode into the office with a teasing grin and the other woman shook her head in amusement. "Is the same guy as last week?"

Heather waved her hand dismissively as if she were discussing her favorite brand of laundry detergent.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head. "He was cute….but a little bit too naïve for my taste, if you know what I mean." She grinned wickedly at that and Kathy shook her head in astonished amusement. "No, this one is actually….can you believe this? An investment banker on Wall Street."

Kathy's bewildered look made her laugh. It was a little-kept secret that Heather Smith's personality wasn't usually compatible with that of a corporate man.

"I know!" she went on quickly before Kathy could say anything. "Don't even start…I actually met him at the drugstore, of all places. We were both in line to get prescriptions filled." She shrugged. "By the time we were done, we had a lunch date."

She rolled her eyes at the obedient, silent nod that Kathy gave her, her face barely able to contain her laughter, and began strutting towards the door again.

"Just tell me if you like it," she said, turning slightly to reveal the back of the top, which Kathy discovered had a criss-crossed design that left her back practically exposed. "What do you think?"

Kathy raised an eyebrow slyly. "I take it you're not going to be talking about stock market quotes," she deadpanned, unable to help it.

Heather gave her a disgusted look but laughed. "Hey, you only live once," she said. "Might as well make it worth it, right?"

The blonde smirked. "Well, I'd suggest getting back to your office before Nadine sees you," she said, referring to their boss. "Or else you might be regretting it while you live once."

"Want me to bring you back anything?" Heather asked as she peeped out the door.

Kathy shook her head. "No, thanks…" She lost her smile as the thought made her sober instantly and she remembered what she had planned. Her voice became quiet. "I've got somewhere to be."

The other woman just shrugged and made her escape, not noticing that her friend's tone had become pained.

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She was coming up on twenty years since receiving her medical license and loved her job immensely, as she was deeply passionate when it came to the cause for children.

Unfortunately, that passion also served to deepen the blow when it came to dealing with the sensitive areas she specialized in…she never had been able to dissociate to keep from feeling the pain of each one of her patients. It was good for her service but hell for her emotional well-being.

This time she had a feeling that it was going to hit doubly hard before it was all through.

The frightened, meek person sitting in the wheelchair in front of her was nothing like the man Elizabeth had come to know professionally. He wouldn't look at her, instead continuing to turn his face still dripping tears toward the door where Olivia was visible clearly to both of them outside.

She never closed her office door during patient sessions because most of the time her patients reacted in almost the exact way as he had when realizing their parent or guardian who had brought them wouldn't be in the room with them. Expecting it didn't make it any less painful to witness but somehow seeing it from a grown man that she was acquainted with and quite fond of made it heartbreaking.

She sat quietly through the first few minutes it took him to process seeing Olivia remaining true to her word and the next few it took for him to stop the tears of terror from thinking she would surely disappear the moment he took his eyes away. Thought she kept a sympathetic and warm gaze to help him see that she really wasn't an enemy, Elizabeth was carefully cataloging in her mind everything she was seeing.

It didn't take long for his body to be unable to handle the exhausting strain of such powerful emotion and begin forcing him to calm down. He took a few deep breaths and began wiping his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Elizabeth reached over for the box of tissue sitting on the corner of her desk.

"Here," she said kindly, holding one out to him.

He took it without looking at her and she could see his face tinge with a slight red as he used it to mop his face, sniffling. She considered a moment before letting her eyes fall to the chair he sat in and she smiled slightly before deciding what to say.

"Who's your friend?" she said pleasantly.

It worked in throwing him off, as she plainly recognized the surprise on his face when he glanced at her before looking down at himself. He seemed to have forgotten the stuffed rabbit that was tucked into the chair beside him, long ears poking out and flopping slightly on his pants leg; the same one she had seen on the couch during every one of her visits to the apartment.

He blushed and ducked his head, but was unconsciously gripping the fur in his hand before he realized it. Elizabeth smiled affectionately, seeing it plainly through his attempt to not let her.

"Christmas present?" she inquired.

The sudden lost look that took over his face took her by surprise and she could see him shutting down as he shrugged abruptly. Not wanting to risk losing him completely, she switched topics, reaching over beside the tissue box to grab the frame on her desk.

"Panda is turning into a monster," she said with light in her eyes. She held the frame out toward him until he had no choice but to take it from her. "I took this the last time I went to see him…I swear he looks like he's gotten a foot longer and it's only been about a week."

Elliot studied the picture in his hand of Elizabeth smiling brightly into the camera from a crouched position in what looked like some kind of outdoor area, judging from the surroundings. The Dalmatian she was holding to her stomach looked young and frisky, its teeth nibbling a shoe string as the shot snapped.

His eyes brightened ever so slightly but his face remained guarded as he slowly handed it back to her. She turned to set the frame back.

"Who's that?"

His soft question startled her again and she turned back towards him. Careful not to let her surprise show and risk embarrassing him, Elizabeth simply followed his gaze to see him looking at another frame. This one sat atop her bookshelf.

She reached for it and smiled. "My sisters," she said, considering a moment before holding the frame out to him. He took it and looked at it. "Elaine, Emily, Erica, Esther and me….my parents had a weird fascination with names that start with "E", apparently."

"They're the best ones," he said off-handedly as he studied the picture.

His tone was impish and mischievous and happened so naturally that he didn't even process it, but it made her heart squeeze joyfully because it proved that there was still a spark of his old personality fighting to stay intact.

"You have sisters?" she asked as she took the frame back and set it on the shelf again.

His face twisted and he looked away. She pursed her lips gently before taking a steadying breath and moved forward slightly in her chair to gaze at him directly.

"Elliot," she began carefully. "Do you know why I asked you to come here for a visit this time?"

Bright blue eyes slowly moved up to look hesitantly into her face. He swallowed.

"Olivia said you wanted a rematch at slapjack," he said softly.

She smiled, blue-grey eyes lighting up with amusement. "Well, yes, that is definitely true," she said with a small chuckle sobering again. "But I'd also like to hear about how you've been feeling."

She could practically see the alarms going off in his head with the panicked look that took over his face.

"Why?" he asked with immediate anxiety.

"Because I'm a friend," she answered with easy tenderness. "And because I want to make sure you're doing alright.'

"I feel fine," he said, looking away quickly. His voice had gotten quiet, though, and he was unable to hide his nervousness from her. "I'm fine."

Elizabeth's eyes swept over his face with compassion. "Then why does it make you so upset when I ask Olivia to leave?" Her voice was gentle and non-judgmental.

Tears sprang to his eyes and he kept his face down. He said nothing.

"Is it me, Elliot?" she asked softly. "Do I make you feel uncomfortable?" Her face softened in sympathy and it reflected in her tone. "I'm very sorry…I don't mean to."

She watched his face straining as he stared at his lap, his fingers nervously twirling the red stocking cap of the rabbit.

"It's alright if you don't want me to come over anymore," she continued quietly, knowing inside that it really had nothing to do with that at all.

Elliot swallowed painfully and shook his head. "No...I-," he said, sounding almost pleading. He was still refusing to look at her. "You can…if-if you want to."

Elizabeth paused a moment, considering her method before she continued.

"What about if Olivia couldn't be there?" she asked carefully. "If she wasn't with us…would you still want me to come?"

His face crumbled so sadly that it made her heart hurt. She buried the pang deep inside like she was taught to do and concentrated on keeping her expression gentle.

He swallowed several times, trying to control the tears that were threatening again.

"I…I don't know," he said shakily, blinking rapidly.

She noticed that his grip was becoming tighter on the rabbit as they continued, his fingers squeezing the fur.

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She inhaled through her nose and tried to keep her concentration on the magazine in front of her.

_Beach House_ had become too hard for her to attempt to get back into….every time she saw it she was reminded of sitting by his hospital bed. She finally had thrown it into the back of her closet to avoid having to see it again and had grabbed a few magazines from the stash underneath her newspaper pile before leaving the apartment that day.

The latest celebrity gossip and tabloid photos may as well have been printed in Russian because she wasn't even focusing on them at all. Elizabeth had assured her that the door would be open until Elliot asked her to close it but Olivia was trying her best not to glance toward it. She had no business listening and had seen already how Elliot kept looking out to be sure she was still there.

It broke her heart. She was making sure she kept her attention on her magazine for fear of how he may react if he was able to see her looking and damned if she was going to ruin Doctor Olivet's gracious efforts by making him upset, but it still destroyed her to see the look of fear on his face every time she did catch him looking for her.

What she did know of what he had gone through was enough to scar her forever, but deep down she sensed that somehow there was still more that he hadn't uncovered. There had to be something that had him so afraid to be away from her…there _had_ to be a reason for it.

_Right?_

She was sure there had to be…he wouldn't just freak out and try so hard to keep her from leaving that he practically wrapped himself around her without a reason.

_Right?_

Her foot was beginning to jiggle anxiously as she tormented over and over in her mind, trying hard to reassure herself. The feeling of vibration against her leg made her start in surprise before quickly sliding over in the seat to get access to her pocket.

"Benson," she said quietly, wondering hesitantly if she should walk away to avoid disturbing them.

"Olivia." She recognized her captain's voice. "It's Cragen."

"Hi, Captain," she greeted him, unable to disguise her surprise. "I, um…I wasn't expected to hear from you."

The contriteness in his voice was obvious. "I know," he said quietly, hanging his head briefly. "I'm sorry, Olivia...I owe both of you such a huge apology that I don't even know where to begin. We…"

He inhaled. "We have done such a poor job of being there for you guys. There's no excuse for it and I can't even believe I've been doing what I have. The whole squad…all of us, we just feel terrible and we really…we'd really like to make it up to you, if you'll have us."

He hadn't planned on just blurting it all out like that but the burden was so overwhelming that he had been unable to stop it. From the stunned silence that greeted him when he finished, it was obvious that Olivia was as thrown as he was.

"Captain," she finally was able to say. "I-I appreciate that." She bit her lip slightly. "I know Elliot will, too…that's very nice of you. Thank you."

She stopped talking awkwardly and Don felt his heart pounding.

_Get it over with…get it over with, damn it! She has to know about it!_

"Olivia," he repeated dreadfully. He closed his eyes briefly. "Olivia…it's just that…well, Casey found out something this morning about the case."

She felt her stomach clench instinctively and her breath suddenly shortened. His tone wasn't happy.

"Something happened up in Buffalo involving the perps," he went on, feeling sicker by the word. "The judge…the judge ordered the grand jury and trial dates moved up." He swallowed. "He's going to have to give his testimony on Monday morning."

Olivia felt the room spinning. Her breath was starting to struggle. This was a dream…this had to be a dream.

She dug her nails into the flesh of her palm so hard that tears sprang to her eyes.

_Oh, God. Oh, my God…_

"I'd like to come over," Cragen continued softly. "I think…I think seeing a few familiar faces may make it easier to break the news to him." He paused. "Do you think…would you mind if we maybe came over?"

She wasn't sure how his words made it into her head and she processed them, because she was so busy trying not to throw up that she could hardly breathe. But she found herself replying without thinking and was surprised to hear the steadiness in her voice.

"No," she said numbly. "No, I…that-that would be fine." She swallowed again, closing her eyes. "We, um…we're actually out-out right now." Her voice was so weak she could hear it wavering. "Could I…could I give you a call once we get back?"

He said something in reply that sounded like an affirmative, but she suddenly couldn't hear anything except her own heartbeat.

Then the unmistakable wetness was forming in her mouth and she surged to her feet, dropping the phone onto the chair.

"Ex-excuse me," she choked, gripping the edge of the receptionist's desk with wobbly fingers. "Where…where is the bathroom?"

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The tears streamed down his face and his shoulders shook as his gaze remained fixed on the ground.

"Because," he whispered painfully. "They might go away again."

Elizabeth regarded him sympathetically, her tone understanding and warm. "It really hurt you, when she moved out with the kids…didn't it?"

Her words made him cry harder.

"No…I-I don't…" He didn't know how to explain, how to make her understand…he didn't know where it was coming from. "I see them….I see Olivia and…and Kathy and my kids…"

His heart raced with anxiety and the fear suddenly crushed his chest again.

"I see them and I call for them and…" His face twisted with agony. "And then they go away." His words ended in a sob as he began to cry again. "I want them to stay with me…I don't want them to go away."

Doctor Olivet nodded tenderly. She knew when to drop a subject and pushed the information into the storage portion of her brain so she wouldn't forget it.

"So Olivia's apartment makes you feel safe," she surmised gently, trying to steer his focus away. He sniffled, his breath hitching tearfully as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He nodded timidly. "Is there anything else that makes you feel safe?"

Elliot's face twisted as he furrowed his brows and swallowed. After a minute he looked down.

"My rabbit," he said in almost a whisper.

She was momentarily startled but got over it quickly, nodding empathetically.

"That's good," she said encouragingly. "That's good…you can hold onto it whenever you get scared."

She kept a reassuring smile on her face even as her mind immediately began racing with concern.

_My God…he's so traumatized. I've never seen a man so traumatized._

Elizabeth glanced at her clock, hesitant on whether or not she should continue her train of thought. She decided to risk it.

"So what do you like to do during the day?" she asked kindly. "Play cards a lot?" She hesitated. "Go outside when it's nice?"

As she expected, his face immediately turned frightened and he shook his head. His face screwed up again and he was crying once more before she had hardly completed the question. She leaned forward slightly with genuine concern in her features.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

He shook his head desperately.

"I don't like it outside," he choked painfully, gulping in breaths. "I don't like it."

"Why not, Elliot?" she continued sympathetically, her face sad and pained. "Why don't you like going outside?"

He sobbed harder, shaking his head adamantly.

"I want Olivia," he begged through ragged breaths. "Please no more….please, I want Olivia."

Knowing right away that the session wouldn't produce anything further, Elizabeth immediately nodded and got to her feet.

"Okay," she said tenderly, smiling warmly. "Okay, Elliot…that's fine. We won't talk anymore. It's alright."

She stepped partially out the door. The detective was sitting in the chair where she had been for the past forty minutes but sprang to her feet in seconds upon seeing her.

"I think we'll call it a day," she said kindly.

Olivia looked at her worriedly and she smiled reassuringly as she stepped aside to let the other woman pass her. Elliot's face shot up hearing his partner's approach only to crumble when he saw her.

"Olivia," he sobbed in agony.

Elizabeth remained near the door, watching sadly as Olivia's face twisted painfully while she went to him.

"Hey," she crooned tenderly, her lips pursed sympathetically when she crouched down in front of him. One hand went up to lightly brush his forehead only to have her start when he crumpled against her, crying painfully. "Shhh….hey…"

Her voice reflected her pain as she hugged him warmly to her.

"It's alright," she murmured. She stroked the back of his neck and lifted her shoulder slightly to accommodate his buried face. "Shh….it's okay, sweetie…it's alright."

She continued soothing him, her voice calm and loving. Doctor Olivet let a few moments pass before hesitantly speaking encouragingly.

"You did wonderful, Elliot," she praised with a tender smile. "Absolutely fantastic."

He swallowed against Olivia's neck but didn't raise his face. When he mumbled she couldn't understand what he said. Olivia kissed the top of his head and nodded sadly.

"Yes, sweetie," she promised quietly, rubbing his back. "We are going to go home." She nodded again, closing her eyes. "It's okay…we're going to go home."

She shifted position slightly to alleviate numbness beginning to spread up her right leg and let her gaze travel up to the doctor's.

The devastation in the brown eyes couldn't be masked even as she hugged him tighter.

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Her eyes began to cross again and she sighed wearily, pushing the document away. She scooted her chair back and ran her hands through her hair.

When she glanced at the clock, Kathy was surprised to see it was almost one. She scooted further in again and picked up the phone from the cradle by her elbow.

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She exhaled gently and sighed softly in relief when his weight was settled in the seat.

"There you go," she breathed, stepping back slightly so she would have room to position his legs comfortably in front of him.

His puffy blue eyes almost bloodshot with red looked at her as she was starting to bend down and she had to stop what she was doing to concentrate on keeping her emotions in check.

"Elliot," she said tearfully, shaking her head and squeezing her lips tightly together.

She would not cry. She would not cry.

Swallowing hard, Olivia moved closer and leaned partway into the passenger side door. She hugged her partner tightly and squeezed her eyes shut to stave off the tears.

"I love you, Elliot," she murmured painfully. The pain and heartbreak of the last few hours had begun to catch up with her and she couldn't do anything to stop it. Her arms were trembling as she squeezed her hands across his back. "God, I love you so much."

Her voice broke, making the words an anguished whisper.

She felt vibrating against her thigh again. Sniffling and trying to exhale calmly, she backed away and reached into her pocket.

"Benson," she answered, reaching in with her hands to help him fasten the seatbelt.

"Hey, Olivia," Kathy replied.

She checked to be sure no limbs were in the way before shutting his car door and sighed heavily, switching the phone to her other ear as she walked slowly around the back of her car.

"Kathy…" she said hesitantly as she reached the driver's side. "Hey."

"How did it go?" the other woman asked immediately.

The gigantic headache that had been slowly creeping its way past her nasal cavity since they had gotten outside of the building chose that moment to begin announcing its presence. Olivia winced, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

She blew out a breath.

"Well…not _too_ terribly," she finally said wearily. "I assume she got him to talk a little but the whole thing is still a bit much for him…he didn't take to it very well for a while there."

Kathy made a soft, sympathetic noise. "How's he doing?" she asked in concern.

"He's okay now, I think," she said tiredly, leaning against the still-closed door slightly. "But I think he's still freaked out…Kathy, I'm sorry, but he just wants me to take him back home. I'm sorry…I know you were planning on meeting us out here…"

The blonde swallowed and quickly pushed back her disappointment. "Oh, no, it's okay," she said immediately. "Don't worry about it. Whatever he wants is fine with me."

She considered a moment, looking over the document again briefly.

"Would you like me to just come over there?" she offered. "I can finish up here and take off early…it won't be a problem."

Olivia's reply was quick and genuine.

"Of course you can," she said. "That would be fine...I'm sure he'll love to see you."

"Well, I'll do that, then," Kathy said, nodding. She sounded slightly relieved. "Does 2:30 sound alright for you?"

"Whenever you can," she answered with assurance. "It'll be fine."

They disconnected and she sighed again as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. She took a deep breath and rolled her neck in attempt to get some relief from the tense knots that had been building all morning as she opened the door.

She started the ignition and reached for her seatbelt, looking over to Elliot. Her face softened sympathetically when she saw him with his head against the door frame and his eyes closed. She knew he must have been exhausted.

"Hey," she said softly. His eyes rolled lazily towards her and her expression became tender. "Kathy is going to come over." She gazed at him warmly. "Would you like that?"

He inhaled tiredly and nodded limply, his eyes closing almost as soon as he opened them. He settled back against the seat and sighed, breathing deeply. She could tell he was asleep a moment later.

Her face twisting slightly, Olivia slipped her hand behind his neck and tenderly massaged his flesh. She listened to his calm breaths for a moment before taking her hand away and shifting the car into reverse.


	52. Chapter 52

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: I'm very sorry this is taking longer. I just started summer school so my time is very consumed right now. **

**Please, I need some encouragement here…the end is coming into sight but I'm really starting to struggle. Please make an effort in reviewing because I need motivation big time right now. Thanks. **

It was a little after two and Olivia was taking advantage of the free time to tackle some of the laundry she had been putting off. It didn't really dawn on her how long it had been since she had last been to the Laundromat until she hit the bottom of the hamper and recognized a shirt she hadn't seen since December.

Guilt rose up immediately as it dawned on her that Kathy must have done some of her laundry while she was at the hospital. She had enough clean things in her drawers at home not to notice that she hadn't worn some of her things for several weeks.

It also brought up more memories of nights sleeping on hospital cots. Of waking up suddenly in sweat-soaked terror and sitting up fast to see if he was still in the bed across the room. Of nights in the crib at work when the smell of the blanket he always used would assault into her senses and leave her crying so hard she almost became sick.

Maybe laundry wasn't such a good idea right now. She slammed the hamper shut quickly only to cringe at the sound and harshly berate herself.

Elliot had fallen asleep even in the short distance from Doctor Olivet's office back to her apartment and she had encouraged him to lie down in her bed for a little while once they arrived. He resisted until she promised she would wake him up when Kathy got there and had been sacked out now for almost a half-hour.

She blew through her cheeks. She hadn't called Cragen back yet and now she had to wonder if she was stalling on purpose. The thought made a discomfort settle in her chest as she walked toward the bedroom and snaked her hand to the nightstand to pick up the phone.

She couldn't suppress a smile when she heard the soft snorts and heavy sighs each time he breathed.

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He made sure to let them all know that they still would have to exercise caution as Elliot would probably need some time before he was up for a lot of visitors, but even so Don made sure that all of them felt welcome to come. Some may not have been as close to the detective but he knew all of them cared and were anxious about their colleague.

Fin staked his spot almost immediately as he had expected and though he really shouldn't have been, Don found himself grateful that no one tried to argue. He had gotten in touch with Lieutenant Barry and had worked out the time stamps to allow for two of them to take time to go to Olivia's apartment with him. Though no one said it outright, it was obvious that the squad thought it would be Fin and Munch.

He turned his gaze to John without being able to help it after his partner's declaration to find the man looking at the ground. If he hadn't of had the experience and known where to look, Cragen doubted he would have been able to spot the fear buried behind the tense expression.

But he had….and he did.

A moment of awkward silence ensued as the other detectives looked around nervously, not yet brave enough to attempt to request a spot until John said something. Don looked first at Fin to discover he, too, was looking away and then moved to the other detectives before raising a slight eyebrow.

"John?" he finally asked, not trying to sound demanding but so controlled by the need to get out of there that he almost came close. "How about you?"

The man's head came up after a moment to look directly into Don's eyes.

His heart was hammering so hard that John was sure the others could hear it. He could feel his back starting to sweat and his throat closing.

The argument with Fin kept coming up in the back of his mind. His partner was right, they were all right…his actions were the worst possible thing he could be doing right now.

He knew it. He never once tried to deny it….he had fought the guilt and the pain every single day and laid awake tormenting about it every single God damned night for the past six and a half weeks.

But this fear that was holding him was just so powerful….he just couldn't bear thinking about it. He would rather be eaten away by his guilt than have to look Elliot in the eyes and see the blame.

His whole life he had thought he was strong but this whole ordeal had proved to him just how wrong he had been.

He deserved it. He deserved every ounce of Elliot's anger and blame and hatred. Nothing in the world could ever make up for the hell he had bestowed upon him and he deserved to have it thrown back at him.

But he was just too weak.

Don watched him swallow and his eyes narrowed, allowing him to see the pain shining through behind the glasses.

"It's okay," he finally answered, his voice scratchy. He swallowed again, bravely forcing himself to keep his head up. "You guys go ahead."

His chin trembled slightly and he couldn't do anything about it.

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"Elliot."

He couldn't make sense of where he was in the murkiness but he was warm and something pleasantly soft was leaning against his face. It was confusing but felt so good that he didn't want to move.

"El…sweetheart."

He recognized the voice but couldn't place it as he began drifting back from the warm place. He opened his eyes drowsily and found himself staring right into light brown fur.

Kathy smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek tenderly as he woke up. Sleepy blue eyes drifted lazily up over the rabbit lying next to his face and landed on hers, blinking slowly.

"Hi," she whispered gently, gazing down at him from beside the bed.

She brushed her hand over his forehead and knew that his eyes would close at the sensation even if she hadn't seen it. The man could bore holes into brick walls with his expressions but run a hand or a few fingers across his scalp or face and he acted like a dog receiving a belly rub.

He sighed contentedly and her smile widened to curl the edges of her lips into her cheeks. She scratched up into his hair for a moment before taking her hand away and bussing his cheek with her nose softly.

"I just wanted to let you know I was here," she continued to whisper. His eyelids drooped and she cupped his cheek once more before dropping another kiss onto his warm flesh. "You can go back to sleep, honey."

He seemed to perform just the opposite in response and began slowly trying to push himself up into the pillows, inhaling deeply and whimpering painfully when he was reminded from his lower body why he was still lying flat.

Kathy's face crinkled with anxiety as she quickly pushed herself partway up onto the mattress and reached out her hands immediately to cradle his shoulders.

"No, no…" she admonished nervously, hurrying to pull the pillows close to his back. "Here, just lie back…there you go. How's that?"

His eyelids dropped slightly again and he yawned widely. She tenderly began moving the comforter further up to cover his chest and was surprised when he leaned forward, extending his arm almost pleadingly.

"Kath," he whispered. The expression on his face was so sad that it made her breath catch and she had to swallow. "Kathy…please…."

She leaned toward him instinctively and was pulled against him before she had time to react. Her arms wrapped around him without a second thought. She felt his arm hook over her waist and then his breath was heaving onto her neck, his back trembling under her hand.

Not knowing what to say or how to say it, she swallowed again against the tears welling in her eyes and the feeling of longing that had suddenly washed over her. She hooked her chin over his back and began rubbing circles over his spine.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She forced herself to keep putting away the dishes and ignore the urge to creep back toward the bedroom that was increasing by the minute. Kathy deserved a moment with him by herself and she was sure that whatever it was that was taking her so long to come back out was nothing to be worrying about.

The ringing phone provided a welcome distraction. She turned away from the cabinet to walk toward the table where the phone lay.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hi, Olivia."

The voice of Captain Cragen made her throat constrict immediately but she swallowed quickly.

"Uh," she choked. "H-hi…hi, Captain."

"I wanted to let you know that Fin and I are leaving the precinct now," he said hesitantly. "Is…is it still alright?"

_I have no idea._

"Um," she stammered again, slapping herself mentally at sounding so completely moronic. "Of course. Of course." She was a little surprised to hear that Fin was coming as well, but was quick to reassure him and tried to sound as composed as she could. "We'll be here…you're welcome whenever you can get here."

She hung up nervously and looked toward the bedroom again.

_Please…please God…let them be welcome._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The knock on her office door was unexpected but not really intrusive, as she had just finished a huge stack of preparation depositions to use during the grand jury trial and was taking a minute to lean back in her chair.

Turning around, Casey was startled to see Arthur Branch standing in the doorway. Her feet dropped to the floor and she shot up from the chair at once, clearing her throat in slight embarrassment.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked with dry amusement coming from his unsmiling lips.

"No," she answered quickly. "No, not at all. Come in, please." She gestured him inside somewhat nervously.

"That's not necessary," he said firmly. "Reservations have been made under my name at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Buffalo for you….we weren't able to get the same hotel as the last time. Is that going to be a problem?"

That wasn't what she had been expecting his visit to be about. Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she answered quickly.

"Uh, nope," she said, shaking her head confidently. "That will be absolutely fine. Thank you, sir."

He gave her a knowing look as he began backing out. "Check-in is 6 pm Sunday evening," he said. He cocked an eyebrow warningly, seeming to know her thoughts. "Grand jury meets at 9 pm sharp on Monday, Casey. Don't be late."

She swallowed hard, trying to combat the sudden nausea that had crept up.

"N-no sir," she managed to say with a weak smile. "I won't be."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The nervousness was coming off of both of them and neither one tried to deny it as they walked quietly down the hall past the apartments. When Don stopped in front of Olivia's door, Fin silently lingered back a step and watched his hand strike the wood gently.

They heard the chain and locks being flipped open almost before his hand came back, surprising them. The door was pulled open immediately to reveal Olivia.

They stood for a moment, her eyes drifting over each of them before she bit her lip. Fin examined her face to see that she looked uncertain and hesitant.

"Hi," she said softly, shifting weight awkwardly as she pulled the door open wider. "Come on in."

Cragen stepped inside and surprised both Fin and Olivia when he immediately hugged her warmly. He lingered for a moment before pulling away and she exhaled, blinking rapidly but smiling gratefully.

He came the rest of the way inside to make room for Fin to follow. Though still tense, she appeared less nervous now.

"Hey, Fin," she said with an unsure smile and received a hug from him as well, surprising her again.

"Hey," he said softly, his face melting into an uncharacteristically soft expression as he pulled away. "How're you doin', Liv? Are you alright?"

A lump formed in her throat but she swallowed it and tried to smile.

"I'm ok," she said weakly, nodding. She turned away before he could gaze at her deeper, waving them forward. "Come in."

She disappeared through the kitchen. The two men instinctively found themselves looking nervously at each other and then trying to act like they hadn't before following.

"Elliot." Fin was somewhat startled when he heard her voice, unusually gentle and calming all of the sudden, but didn't express it in his face. "Look who's here to see you."

Feeling an almost overwhelming rush of anxiety and not knowing why, he allowed Cragen to step into the living room first. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed and did the same a moment later.

For some reason, his eyes automatically took in the woman's presence before anything else.

_His wife…ex-wife…_

_Kathy._

She sat on Olivia's couch beside Elliot with his hand in hers, resting on her lap. He watched as she took him in and found himself momentarily entranced by the stunning blue of her eyes.

The grey hooded sweatshirt zipped to his neck was recognized at once as Fin had seen Elliot wear it numerous times before, but nothing could hide the fact that it now hung off of areas previously defined by muscle and mass. Raw red scars mottled the hand and fingers being encased by Kathy's, and deep tissue bruising lined his neck.

It took an effort to keep from flinching when he reached his friend's face and saw the evidence of vicious beatings but he forced himself not to dwell on it. Blue eyes met his for the briefest of seconds before darting down to the floor.

"Hi, Kathy," Cragen finally said, breaking the tense silence almost desperately. Fin glanced over, slightly startled, to see the captain smiling at her gently.

His expression was warm but a little anxious as he glanced beside her again. He was surprised when Elliot's eyes flew back up towards Fin for a moment again before returning awkwardly to stare down at his feet.

She smiled. "Hi, Don," she said softly, giving him a warm gaze before turning her eyes to the other man and greeting him pleasantly as well. "Hello...Fin, right?"

The black man managed a smile.

"Yeah," he answered, making himself look away from his friend. "Hi…nice to see you again."

Don looked toward Elliot again, his voice softening slightly. "Hi, Elliot."

The silence that fell over the room was nervous and anxious and Olivia watched her partner, teeth biting hard into her lip as she waited for his reaction. He took a deep breath before lifting his head.

"Hi," he answered quietly.

He could only look at the captain for a moment before dropping his eyes.

Don sucked in his lower lip slightly. "How are you doing?" he continued gently.

There was no response. His eyes remained fastened on the floor. Kathy could feel his pulse racing against her palm and she squeezed his hand reflexively as the awkward silence filtered on.

Olivia gazed at both of the men with a sympathetic expression, eyes apologetic. After a minute, Fin glanced at the captain and cleared his throat softly. He leaned slightly forward.

"Uh…" he started to say, only to falter when he couldn't think of any words. His face grew warm as his friend continued to look at his feet.

_Say something… just talk to him, moron! _

He pursed his lips a moment.

_No…no. He's uncomfortable. Be careful…don't say anything to make him more uncomfortable._

_What can I say?_

Olivia felt horrible watching him struggle to find words. She realized then that in all of this time thinking of how her partner was feeling and trying to ignore how she was feeling, she hadn't given effort towards considering the emotions of anyone at the squad.

Fin cleared his throat again, snapping her attention back to him immediately when she suddenly heard her name.

"She says you watched the tape," he went on hesitantly. He swallowed. "Um….what'd ya think?"

They saw Elliot's lower lip come up between his teeth. After a minute his head hesitantly began to travel upward again.

His eyes were unrecognizable. As he first lifted them to him and then slowly moved to Cragen, all Fin could think about was how it looked as if a stranger was staring out at them.

Gone was the steely confidence that sometimes bordered on cocky…nowhere to be seen was the drive and compassion that used to seem permanently clouded even once the case was complete….there was no trace of the mischievous sparkle that hid deep down but always belied his tough exterior to all who knew him well.

The blue looking at them now screamed with uncertainty, hesitation….meekness and protective intuition defined every move of his gaze. His lip came between his teeth again as he slowly nodded his head.

The silence returned once more but Cragen was quick to break it, surprising them all with his watery chuckle. Elliot's eyes moved to see the captain smiling brightly.

"We liked it, too," he said, nodding. "It was a lot of fun to make."

He hesitated, almost feeling uncomfortable with the intense stare but at the same time praying that Elliot wouldn't stop.

As if it was instinctive, Fin chimed in after a moment with a teasing voice and a playful expression that made Kathy start slightly because she never would have expected it from him.

"I've always wanted to go on a talk show," the black man said in a dry voice, cocking an eyebrow. "But I got to tell you, man…if those people are anywhere near as bossy with a camera as your daughter, I think I'd reconsider."

The moment the words left his mouth Fin froze in shock, unable to believe what he had just said. The dry jab had come out uncontrollably, as if he had forgotten where he was sitting.

His mouth became dry as he cursed himself over and over again inside.

There they all were, creeping and tiptoeing around Elliot like he was made of glass, and he had just blurted out a mocking blow as if the man had simply been on vacation these past weeks instead of recovering from personal hell. Christ, could he _be_ any more heartless?

Olivia winced at the look of absolute horror that overcame the black man's face as he looked at her partner. He opened his mouth immediately to apologize but she just happened to look over at Elliot then and was so stunned that she lost her breath.

Across from them, the words never made it out of Fin's mouth as he faltered in surprise.

Elliot was still looking at the floor but was now smiling and biting his lip almost shyly. It was so surprising and wonderful to see that no one could react at all.

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His nose tickled and he sniffed, scrubbing across his face with his sleeve as he continued staring at the bed above him.

_Eight-hundred and four…eight-hundred and five…_

His gaze swept over another and he suddenly forgot if he had counted it already. The moment he let his mind think about, he forgot where he had left off.

"God damn it," he huffed, smacking the mattress hard in frustration.

Jesse turned over with a groan and pressed his face deep into the scratchy cotton pillowcase, momentarily contemplating how long it would take to make himself asphyxiate the linen. He was so bored that he had actually spent this morning counting the microscopic etches in the wooden frame that held his cellmate's bed.

God…Mid-State hadn't been a picnic but at least they'd had _some_ stimulation during the day. This place was so quiet that he almost wondered if everyone else had killed themselves during the night.

The man above him was taking a nap and had snarled down at him that if he made him wake up he was going to be short a few teeth…so that explained why _he_ was being so quiet. But what about everyone else? Hell, what about EJ and them? Why weren't _they_ making any noise?

Quietly twisting around so that he could lower his feet to the floor, Jesse walked over to the edge of the cell and wrapped his hands around the bars to peer out.

Travis and the big dude whose name he always forgot were playing some kind of card game in both of their cells. In their separate cells, Matt, Jason, and Jeff were all doing a cramped session of calisthenics or the like on the floor.

He scoffed. Shit heads…figures those three would be thinking about their bodies even while in this crap hole. To hear Matt talk about himself, one would think he was fucking ancestor to Adonis.

Jesse roamed over a few cells to the left until he reached Hughes' and saw he was asleep on the top bunk, his cellmate looking to be meditating or praying or something on the bed beneath him. Scrunching his face in disdain, he continued over a few more and looked for EJ.

It took him three scans over and into other cells before he realized that he was looking in the right place. EJ was nowhere to be seen.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"That's got to be Liz," he said softly, unable to keep from smiling again as he thought of his youngest. "She is a drama queen, isn't she?"

Olivia felt herself almost lose control at the sound of his loving pride. She had to suck on her lower lip to keep herself concealed but her happiness radiated off of her face.

Fin heard a watery chuckle escape from the captain beside him and knew it had nothing to do with the words they had just heard. He smiled broadly, unable to help it, but the lump in his throat kept him from replying.

"We enjoyed being able to do it," Cragen said again, his voice hoarse. He swallowed and inhaled, trying not to let his next words sound as desperate as he felt about them but knowing even as he spoke that he couldn't. "We…we've really missed you."

As if a switch had tripped, Elliot's smile was gone in an instant. Olivia wanted to cry out, beg for it not to leave. Her heart constricted and she could only watch painfully as his face twisted and his eyes fell again.

Elliot swallowed painfully, his breath suddenly shuddering. "I…I miss you guys, too," he whispered, closing his eyes slowly.

Kathy squeezed his hand tenderly and ducked her head to hide the sadness on her face.

Don exhaled in agony. The sound made Fin look at him slightly in surprise to see tears shining in his eyes.

"Elliot," he said softly, his voice hoarse and pained. He had to exhale once more against the burning in his chest and shook his head in anguish. "Elliot, I'm so sorry." His voice was so raw now that it was hard to hear. "I'm so sorry that we've haven't come to see you. I'm sorry we made you miss us."

His detective was still looking at the floor steadily but the heartbreaking expression remained steadfast and Don felt even more of a crushing weight in his heart.

"We're still with you," he went on painfully. "We think about you all the time…I'm so sorry we haven't been showing you that. We think about you all the time." His eyes were wet. "I'm not asking your forgiveness. We don't deserve it…I don't deserve it. But I want you to know that you're not alone. No matter what happens, we're beside you and we'll do anything for you."

Elliot just shook his head numbly and didn't respond to the captain's emotions. He spoke after a few long moments in a flat voice.

"Why now?"

They were startled and it showed as they looked at him in bewilderment. He swallowed, his face reflecting nervousness as he repeated his question.

"Why…now?" he asked again. "You haven't been here before…you just said it yourself." He cast a look at Fin before going back to Cragen. His tone was quiet. "Why today? Something had to have happened to compel you to exert the energy."

The words were like a jackknife in Olivia's gut. She exhaled and bit her lip, looking down at her lap in anguish before raising her gaze to the captain. Shame, guilt, and utter despair twisted the older man's face.

Fin couldn't even look at him. The soft accusation that held so much unintentional truth made him feel like he would puke.

Elliot knew. He knew by the way Fin wouldn't look at him and the way the captain's breathing had hitched and the way Olivia's hand was suddenly still on his back.

"What?" he whispered.

His voice was fearful now and it broke Olivia's heart. Cragen swallowed, pursing his lips regretfully and wishing that he didn't have to say it.

"Elliot," he said gently, forced himself to look into the blue eyes staring at him, "on Monday morning there's going to be a grand jury hearing." His stomach twisted dangerously. "The judge is going to need you to give a testimony about what happened."

Elliot's face lost its color so quickly that Kathy thought he was going to pass out. Olivia looked at him anxiously and slid closer, already feeling his sides shaking.

"Sweetie," she said urgently. "Elliot…" She took his hand in both of hers, feeling his pulse rapidly pounding. "You're safe now. No one can hurt you anymore." Her voice was slightly desperate. "We're all here, sweetheart. We're all going to help you through it. I promise you."

She felt her heart crushing when he slid closer to Kathy and turned his face into her shoulder away from her. Fin could see the carpet blurring with the tears he was trying hard to hold inside.

Don swallowed hard and sucked a tearful breath. "That's right, Elliot," he said, nodding. "We're going to be here every step of the way."

There were no more attempts to look at them. Olivia rubbed her hand sympathetically over his back even though he was avoiding her and looked at the two other men with apologetic eyes.

He was gone. Any other efforts to try to make him warm to them again would be fruitless now and they couldn't do anything about it.

Cragen looked at the form of Elliot with sad eyes and pursed his lips painfully.

"It's alright, buddy," he said softly. "We're going to go now. Anytime you want us to come back, just say the word. We'll be here." He stood to his feet without looking at Fin or the others and swallowed.

"I'm sorry," he continued tearfully, shaking his head. "Elliot….I'm sorry."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He slammed the door shut with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall as he stormed into the front hallway. His coat was ripped off and flung harshly at the closed door of the closet before landing in a heap on the floor.

It was a miracle he had made it home. How he hadn't killed someone or gotten a reckless driving ticket on the way still surprised him.

He was mad as hell right now and just wanted to punch something. Anything. Just punch good and hard until he lost all feeling in his knuckles.

The longing to see Elliot burned so fiercely in his heart that John seriously wondered if a heart attack would feel better.

He'd had the chance. He'd _had the chance._

And he had dismissed it.

_What __**the fuck**__ is __**wrong**__ with you?_

Anger, shame, and self-hatred flared with a new vengeance, making it hard to breathe. His hands balled into fists and he stalked toward the back of the house in the direction of his bedroom.

"_Elliot…Elliot…can you hear me?"_

He shook his head hard to keep the memories away as he stepped through the doorway. His hands pulled at his cotton dress shirt roughly and he nearly choked himself when he attempted to yank it over his head without unbuttoning it first.

_Something was shoved so far into his mouth that his jaw looked dislocated. He shuddered and reached instinctively for the offending object, finding it soft when his hand made contact. _

_The noises became even more terrified as he began pulling it out as gently as he could and Elliot started to cry._

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed, unable to bear it. _

The buttons flew in six different directions as his fingers ripped at the thin material. It took little effort to wrench the now-torn fabric over his face.

His chest was heaving now as the memories kept playing back over and over again, like a terrifying horror movie that wouldn't end.

"_I'm not going to hurt you, buddy," he sobbed. "I promise."_

_He reached for his hands again. Elliot began whimpering like crazy and shaking._

He reached for the middle drawer and pulled on it blindly, his brain melding between memory and reality. The flimsy knob, the one that had been teetering on the brink of destruction for months and he kept reminding himself to replace, chose that moment to surrender to gravity. It fell free from the hole and landed with a _thunk_ on the carpet.

And that was all it took.

Screaming like an animal, John slammed his hands into the wooden drawers and pushed hard, bringing the short chest up off of its legs and making his cologne bottles rattle. Over and over he pushed, each thrust sending the back of the chest slamming hard into the wall behind it. Three of the bottles toppled off onto the floor and after a moment, the fourth one dropped sideways and broke.

The strong spicy scent bombarded him with sickening intensity as it dripped all over his hands but he kept going, grunting with rage and driving the drawers more forcefully into the wall. The slams and cracks he heard from the plaster becoming too weak to stand the assault didn't even give him the relief he thought it would and it just made him madder.

Taking his hands away suddenly, he found himself backing away and kicking the drawers like a child having a temper tantrum. It took four blows with his bare foot before his brain signaled the pain response and he yelled out louder than ever, his toes and ankle throbbing with hellish force.

Finally standing still, John swallowed and heaved, his chest trembling. His eyes filled and he gave up then, sinking to the floor.

The guttural sobs ripped through his body and he didn't fight them. He simply leaned over and cradled his head in his hands.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The shrill ringing of the phone of the phone jolted her rudely out of sleep. Olivia grunted unhappily and forced herself up onto one elbow.

She was startled for a moment when she saw Elliot sprawled across the far end of the bed near her feet before she was reminded of why she was so exhausted. She'd started out on the couch but he had woken up crying ten minutes after she had finally gotten settled and wanting her with him.

Blowing through her cheeks, she winced at the next unpleasantly loud ring and scooted over quickly to pick up the offending object.

"Hello," she murmured tiredly, sitting up and putting her feet to the floor.

"Good morning." She recognized the warm, pleasant voice of Elizabeth Olivet. She sounded hesitant. "I'm sorry…did I wake you up?"

Olivia inhaled deeply, smiling. "It's alright," she said reassuringly. "I overslept anyway."

"How are things this morning?" the other woman asked.

Cradling the phone against her shoulder, Olivia turned slightly so that she could pull the sheets and comforter away from the headboard. She pushed aside her pillow and began pulling the covers towards the wrong end of the bed.

"Well….I just woke up," she said with light amusement. She draped the covers over her partner's back gently with a soft smile. "So not too much has happened."

Elizabeth chuckled in embarrassment. "I guess I should say how are things since yesterday?" she amended.

She left the bedroom quietly and padded toward the kitchen, where she would be able to speak at normal volume and not disturb Elliot's sleep.

"They…he's…."

She was a little surprised when she discovered she didn't know what to say. After another minute of stammering, Doctor Olivet gently tried to guide her focus.

"What did he do once you left my office?" she said.

Grateful for the rescue, Olivia pursed her lips. "He…uh, he was pretty much wiped out…I put in my room and he ended up taking a nap for about an hour or so….then Kathy came over."

She sucked the inside of her cheek regretfully. "A little while later our captain came over too and he brought one of our coworkers..."

Elizabeth noticed then that her voice had suddenly become dreadful, almost as if she felt sick.

Swallowing, Olivia spit out the rest before her brain could convince her not to. "The judge on Elliot's case moved up the trial," she said. "They came to let him know that he's going to have to testify Monday morning for the grand jury."

Silence filled the phone once she finished and she couldn't tell what the other woman was thinking. She wondered if the news was as shocking to Doctor Olivet as it had been to her when she had found out.

"How did he react to that?" Elizabeth asked after a moment.

Her voice was much calmer than Olivia expected and for some reason, she felt a twinge of spite that she couldn't explain. She made sure it didn't show in her voice when she answered.

"Clammed right up," she said sadly, shaking her head. "Wouldn't look at or speak to anyone until they finally ended up leaving a few minutes later."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully on her end. "And the rest of the night?"

Olivia leaned against the counter. "Kathy helped him take a shower," she recalled. "She left at about 8:30…he slept in my room by himself for about a half-hour before he woke up crying…."

Her voice trailed off then unexpectedly, piquing the other woman's attention.

"What is it?" she asked.

The detective bit her lip nervously and sighed anxiously, taking her time in replying. "I…I don't know," she began, sounding hesitant. She sighed again and Elizabeth heard the desperation.

"I just...it seems like all of the sudden he's becoming more…I-I can't even…" She furrowed her brow, trying to think of words to describe what she was feeling. "Like yesterday, at your office. He wouldn't let go of me and then when I finally had to force him he acted like I'd broken his heart."

Her voice was starting to choke. Doctor Olivet felt waves of sympathy for her as she remained silent to let her continued gathering strength.

"At night he won't go to sleep...and the only times he _will_ fall asleep are after I've held him or rocked him." She shook her head. "It just seems like…kind of like lately he's become more…clingy than usual, I guess." Her voice seemed anxious as she continued in a rush. "And not…it's not that I _mind_…it doesn't bother me but…do you kind of know what I'm-?"

As her words began becoming distressed and guilty, Elizabeth took pity and interrupted carefully.

"Abuse is a powerful force, Olivia," she said delicately. Her tone was soft yet sad at the same time. "And we have to take into account how long he was subjected to brutal forms of it."

She could tell by the sound of Olivia's breathing that the other woman was struggling with tears.

"Right now his instincts seem to be trained in fear," she went on. "I think it's pretty safe to assume that his captors used terror-inducing tactics to control him and it seems like he's still operating under the belief that the only thing he can anticipate is abusive treatment."

Olivia swallowed.

"If you want my educated guess," she continued, "I'd say that he's trying to find some source of 'contact comfort', by which I mean he desperately seeks positive human contact but has been so long without it that he is unsure that it can exist. His new attachment to you might mean that he's making an effort to learn how to trust again but still believes that harm is inevitable."

The thought of Elliot believing she would do something to hurt him made her stomach lurch. She had to take a minute to breathe.

"So…" She bit her lip. "So what can I do? I mean…is there something that I can do to help him not feel that way?"

"Unfortunately, until we can pinpoint exactly _what_ it is that triggers the feelings, there's really no way to know how to keep it from happening," Elizabeth said. "For right now, just take your cues from him…if contact is what he wants, let him have it."

Olivia nodded. "Okay," she said, somewhat nervously.

"Also," Doctor Olivet continued, "Especially now that the testimony is evident, I strongly urge that Elliot comes in to see me each day this weekend. It's important that we begin to establish routine so he can become used to seeing me and understand that it's not just a temporary thing."

She blew out a pained breath but agreed immediately. "I think that would be a good idea," she said weakly.

Elizabeth nodded, furrowing her brow slightly as she checked over her calendar. "I've got two appointments this afternoon," she said. "But I made sure to keep them flexible because I want him to be first priority. How does this morning work?"

Olivia's eyes flew immediately to the large note that hung on the refrigerator that Kathy had predominately positioned so it wouldn't be forgotten, reminding her of the doctor's appointment scheduled for 11 am.

"I'm taking him to the physician at 11," she told the other woman. "I think…I'd rather we do it while we're already out. It would probably be harder if we had to come back here and then leave again."

"That sounds smart," Elizabeth agreed. She thought a moment. "Do you think you'll be through by 2:30?"

Olivia considered. "I think that would work," she said. "His office is way across town." She nodded. "Yeah, 2:30 sounds good."

Doctor Olivet nodded. "Alright," she said kindly. "I guess I'll see you then."

She swallowed. "See you then," she echoed weakly.

Olivia looked at the clock and closed her eyes nervously, wondering what the day would be like. She had a feeling it wasn't going to be easy.

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Her slender fingers drummed on the counter as she waited.

"Office of the Chief Medical Examiner," a perky voice chirped into the phone. "This is Ashley…how may I help you?"

She smiled despite herself. Ashley Bonds was the newest addition to the team, a 23-year old fresh out of North Carolina State University with the thickest southern accent she thought she had ever heard before, and acted so refreshingly innocent sometimes that it made Melinda's heart ache.

"Hi, Ashley," she said. "It's Melinda Warner. How are you?"

"Oh, hello!" The young woman's voice became warm with affection. "It's so good to hear from you, Doctor Warner. We sure been missing you 'round here."

Melinda smiled. "Thank you," she said. "That's very sweet of you to say. Listen, I was wondering if you had a moment to pull my calendar for me. I need to clear some dates from my schedule."

"Sure," she agreed immediately. "Hang on one second." She heard the sound of keys clicking and imagined the woman pulling up her account on the computer in front of her. "Alright...ready when you are."

"I'm going to need a week starting Monday, the 22nd," Melinda said.

Her eyes traveled over to the refrigerator and she stared at a picture of her daughter while trying to figure out why she suddenly wanted to cry.

She swallowed and continued, "I'm going to be out of town."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The ascend was tense and quiet. She had one hand wrapped around the back of the chair while gripping his with her other one tightly as the elevator continued up.

Olivia was drained.

The visit to his physician had been nerve-wracking from the very start. It seemed that Elliot's primary doctor had neglected to inform the nurse of her request for a female examiner and had conveniently been out of the office at the time of their appointment. The receptionist had wanted to insist that they weren't authorized to turn over procedures to a different physician without consent from the primary and it had taken almost an hour to get the man on the phone to give the okay.

The woman they had finally gotten to see was very kind and extremely patient as she examined his ribs, his arm, and the abrasions on his back and face to see how they were healing, but he was still so unreceptive and nervous that Olivia couldn't help but dread the inevitable trips back to check on the other areas.

They had left the office with ointment to begin using for the wounds on his back, a promise that it after another week or so he would probably be ready to start trying real food, and twenty minutes to get across town to see Doctor Olivet.

She found herself surprised when they got to the lobby and discovered Elizabeth sitting out there, patiently waiting. The dedication and genuine tenderness displayed by this woman just seemed to keep amazing her, though by now she knew that it shouldn't.

"Hello," Doctor Olivet greeted pleasantly, giving them both a big smile as she stood up to meet them. "It's so good to see you."

And, even though she had been expecting them and was so genuinely nice that she probably would have said the same thing after a five-minute trip to the bathroom and back, Olivia was warmed by the sincerity she heard. After such a trying morning, it was a refreshing welcome.

Elizabeth looked from her to Elliot, the smile never leaving. "I'm all ready for you," she said passionately. "Shall we head back?"

Elliot's head turned toward Olivia immediately, the expression of dread on his face clear as he gripped tighter to her hand. She forced herself to keep a smile on as she rubbed her fingers tenderly over his flesh and nodded encouragingly.

"Ready?" she asked.

Pursing her lips sympathetically, she continued pushing the chair, following the other woman into the office.

Elizabeth stood to the side, courteously allowing Olivia to push him through before stepping in after them. His eyes were frightened and apprehensive as he swallowed, clutching tighter to the other woman's hand. With a sympathetic and understanding expression, she moved away to prepare for the upset she knew was coming.

Olivia knelt down and kept the reassuring smile on her face as she tenderly touched his cheek. "It'll be just like last time," she said soothingly, nodding. She turned her head toward the open door, waiting until he followed her gaze before looking back. "I'll be right there waiting for you…right there the whole time."

Her heart wrenched painfully when his tears crept up, making his eyes shine as he looked at her with that expression that she couldn't bear…that pleading, abandoned expression so heartbreaking that it made her stomach knot.

Almost losing it right then, Olivia leaned forward to hug him warmly. She could feel his fingers digging into her skin as he burrowed his face against her arm. She rubbed his back for a few moments and pressed her nose tearfully against his head, forcing herself to begin disentangling him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He started awake, unaware that he had dozed off, and yawned. Blinking rapidly, he slid his feet to the floor as he recognized the voice that had awakened him from his light sleep.

Jesse watched EJ shuffle over to the bed he had used and flop down onto it with a grumbling sigh. He looked pissed.

"Hey," he called out. EJ turned his head to glare at him but he was so used to the look that it didn't even make him pause. "Where'd you go? You missed lunch."

"4C," a brusque voice called.

His brother scowled. "That dumb shit is here again," he complained. "Wouldn't shut up for an hour, damn it…I'm fucking starving."

"4…**C**!" the voice called again, this time sounding angrier and closer.

The proximity of it made Jesse jump and then he suddenly remembered that it was his number being called. Turning his head, he saw a scowling guard unlocking the door to his cell.

"Get out," the man said crossly, jerking a thumb sideways. "Got someone to see."

His face twisted in annoyance and disbelief, Jesse scoffed petulantly as he scuffled out of the cell. The guard handcuffed him and led him out of the holding area to the interview rooms.

As he predicted, Dwight Haskins sat at one end of the table, tapping his fingers on the wood. But his expression made Jesse uneasy as he allowed himself to be led inside.

He absently held out one wrist to allow the guard to secure the cuff to the chair. The man left and he raised an eyebrow questioningly when the lawyer remained quiet once they were alone.

"So what's up?" he said finally, annoyed. "EJ said you talked to him…you talking to everyone or something?"

Haskins eyes narrowed as he folded his hands, taking his time and breathing evenly. After a minute, he leaned forward and regarded Jesse squarely.

"I want you to take the deal being offered by the prosecution," he said quietly.


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: I apologize once more for the amount of time this has ended up taking. It was not my intention when I began this to make it so long, but I just simply can not and will not rush. It is my belief that a meticulous story web such as this must be weaved through carefully to avoid carelessness. I am sorry for the ones who have given up and the ones who feel they may, but just reaching one person makes it all worthwhile to me. Thank you to those still riding out this treacherous wave with me….I appreciate it more than I can express in words.**

Blood-curdling, horrific screams made her jump violently out of oblivion and shoot upright in surprise. Her heart working double time from the unexpected shock, Olivia had to gasp in breaths in order to calm down.

"Jesus Christ," she gasped, exhaling hard and swallowing.

She struggled to maneuver the blankets out of the way and hopped out of the bed as fast as she could. By the time she made it out of the room the screaming had given way to wailing cries that made her stomach turn.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said anxiously, going immediately to the nearest lamp and switching it on in panic. "Hey…hey…"

Her eyes protested the light instantly and she squeezed them shut for a moment. When she opened them again she was able to see him half-way upright and sobbing hysterically, fists balled down against the blanket over him.

Olivia hurried over to the couch and dropped down quickly to wrap her arms around him.

"What's the matter?" she murmured in anguish, squeezing tight against his trembling back. "What's the matter?"

He hiccupped out breaths through his tears, gasping and trembling. He pressed against her as tightly as he could and clung to her neck with obvious terror.

"No, no," he whimpered, burying his face deep into her shoulder. She could feel his hands shaking as he sobbed, barely able to speak coherently. "Make it go away, please make it go away."

Having no idea what he was even talking about and absolutely floored by the extreme fear he was displaying, she nevertheless hugged him tightly, rubbing her hands around his back.

"Shh, honey," she murmured sadly. He began wailing the words again, prompting her to cradle the back of his head and press her face against his. "It's okay, sweetheart…it's okay."

He shook his head from where it was embedded and wept painfully.

She rubbed the back of his neck, trying to speak soothingly. "It's alright, shh…I'm right here, baby. I've got you. Everything's okay."

He sniffled and exhaled tearfully, squirming slightly against her and nestling his face onto her. For a few minutes they sat quietly as he caught his breath and she continued to hold him tenderly, offering comfort with her embrace.

Then she heard him sigh shakily and his grip on her middle repositioned itself. He turned his face out and exhaled heavily, his breath hot against her neck.

"Bad dream?" she murmured compassionately, pressing her fingers lightly into his back. The shudder she felt as he curled further towards her embrace made it obvious and she hesitated as she remembering what Doctor Olivet had suggested. "You want to tell me about it?"

He inhaled tearfully without a reply and pressed his cheek against her shoulder for several long moments. She didn't persist, instead making sure her hug was warm and secure.

"I…I was on the beach," he finally said, making Olivia wince at the rawness of his voice. "And-and the waves were really high and-"

His voice cracked, making her heart break and then tears were spilling out again.

"And I saw them…I saw them coming up really fast," he whimpered painfully. "And I kept trying to get up but-but I couldn't and then I was drowning." His voice cracked again and he hid his face back against her, weeping. "I couldn't breathe. I kept trying to breathe and…and I was dying."

Her heart shattered in agony as she realized that the dream may very well have been a flashback from some unknown point during his captivity.

The water behind the house where they found him had been calm the night they had come, but she didn't doubt the possibility of wind or elements making it rough.

Her stomach heaved. Jesus….for him lying helpless in the sand it very well could have seemed like tidal waves. Her eyes burned with tears and she thought she might throw up.

"Oh, baby," she breathed tearfully, pressing her face against his head painfully. "Oh, Elliot." She tenderly caressed his neck and placed kisses on his temple. "You must have been so scared."

Feeling horrible, she leaned back and kissed his face again.

"I've got you, sweetheart," she murmured, unsure of what to say. She hugged him tighter and swayed sideways slightly, her eyes closed in anguish. "You're safe now. I've got you, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Pursing her lips tearfully, she reached beside her for his blanket that she had partially been sitting on.

"Here, sweetie…come here," she said softly. "How about we get you all nice and warm again, huh?"

He shook his head and clung to her insistently, making it almost too hard to cover his back and shoulders with the fabric. His face sandwiched back into her neck and hid there firmly.

"It's alright," she soothed, unable to disguise her sadness. She hooked her chin over his shoulder to hug him more fully and rubbed his back with warm circles. "No more bad dreams…I'm right here, Elliot. There's nothing to be afraid of."

She kissed his head gently. "Go back to sleep," she coaxed tenderly, smoothing his hair. "Everything's alright now."

He shook his head again, burrowing it against her skin awkwardly.

"No," he whined stubbornly, his voice tearful and fatigued. "No, Olivia, no…"

His words cracked and he cried, his body racking pitifully with each exhausted gasp of breath. Olivia swallowed tearfully and cradled his head against her cheek, rubbing through his hair with her hands.

She leaned wearily against the back of the couch, gently forcing him to lean against her in order to keep his grip, and continued rubbing his back.

There was no choice but to let him cry himself to sleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder to prevent it from slipping as she bent down. "I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble."

Pulling open the bottom drawer, Melinda slipped two pairs of Mike's jeans that she had just folded inside.

The other woman scoffed playfully on the other end of the line.

"This isn't high school, you know," Casey teased lightly. "I don't have to ask permission to share my room."

She smirked wryly as she began folding up the t-shirts lying on top of the bed.

"Well, pardon me," she shot back. "How am I supposed to know how your boss operates? Hell…all the times I've seen him he looks like he's either got a stick up his butt or is in need of a laxative."

Casey burst out laughing loudly and covered her mouth, looking towards the closed office door to see if anyone was looking in. Melinda grinned mischievously.

"It'll be fine," the attorney assured, shaking her head in amusement. "It's crazy for you to spend money on a room for yourself when the state is paying for a huge one with more than enough space to share."

Melinda turned back to the drawers and opened up the top one to place some of her camisoles inside. "You wouldn't mind?" she asked, hesitantly.

The two of them knew each other professionally but Melinda could count the number of times she'd had reason to cross paths with Casey during work hours on half of one hand. Attorneys and autopsies didn't usually fit into the same spectrum.

"Of course not," Casey replied in playful disgust. Her tone became cheeky then. "Though I have to warn you…I've been told that I snore."

"Please," Melinda replied immediately, sounding matter-of-fact. "You can't be worse than my husband. I have yet to _meet_ a person who snores louder than that man does sometimes." She grinned. "But…I'll bring my earplugs, just in case."

The other woman chuckled.

After a minute, the line became silent as neither of them could keep up the charade of lightness. Both were dreading the trip out of town and in agony over what would be awaiting them.

Their roles couldn't be more different. While one would be bearing witness in a crowded audience to a first-hand account of a heinous act committed against a close friend, the other would have to become the voice for a friend who'd had his strength brutally extinguished.

But despite the circumstances, they shared the same pain associated with the one factor that drew them and so many others together amidst such a harrowing time.

Personal investment.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She had offered to take him into the kitchen to have breakfast, since he had been on the couch all night as well as most of the day before and she sympathized with how gross she felt herself when forced to stay in one spot for a long time. But Elliot surprised her by his request to stay where he was.

She had thought about gently trying to persuade him, figuring a little bit of physical stimulation was better than nothing. But he just looked so warm and content, sitting up on the couch with two blankets encasing his body, and since he had taken his medicine earlier his expression was droopily endearing ….she couldn't help but melt.

As she had gone to get a glass of the shake for him, Olivia realized that actually it could work in her favor after all. She could scarf down something to hold her over while she was in the kitchen and that way she wouldn't have to feel guilty about eating in front of him like she always did.

Now it was almost a half hour into _Rachel Ray_. She was sitting comfortably against the far end of the couch by his feet and he was beginning to feel the effects of the morning dose of Oxycodone.

The segment broke for the second commercial of the hour and Olivia shifted, folding her legs under her more comfortably and looking over at him. He had wiggled down to lie flat and was curling his head into the pillow on his end of the couch.

She smiled, muting the volume. She couldn't help thinking that it was almost like clockwork, how the medications seemed to operate…every morning he always ended up conked out about twenty minutes after a dose no matter how hard he fought it.

Olivia slid smoothly from the couch to the floor and reached up to pat his leg tenderly.

"Want to me to turn it off?" she offered.

He inhaled and yawned, clutching the pillow tightly with his hand. "Mm-mmm," he mumbled, shaking his head absently. He closed his eyes. "S'okay…"

He was out a minute later and she chuckled as she carefully turned the volume back up a few small notches.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She scrolled through the list of messages, automatically skipping over the first few when she saw the return addresses with a playful roll of her eyes.

No matter how many times she told him not to, her brother still continued to send her those annoying forwarded messages informing her of the latest political issue, complete with his own personal note at the end just to pull her chain. An _extremely_ secure-in-his-skin Republican, he seemed to make a habit out of debating over her Democratic viewpoints whenever he saw the opportunity.

Continuing through, she clicked on one with a Manhattan Homicide Division tag to discover it had been sent by Marcus Pugh, an attorney she was good friends with there. She had just started reading through it when the phone rang.

She turned away from the computer to reach for it. "Casey Novak, Sex Crimes," she answered.

"Novak," the male voice said. She recognized it immediately and scowled despite herself. "It's Dwight Haskins."

Rolling her eyes again, she minimized the computer screen, because trying to split her attention was fruitless when talking to him.

"What can I do for you, Dwight?" she asked, her tone annoyed but just subtle enough so that he wouldn't be able to call her out on it.

"You still up for a deal?"

It was the unnatural quietness of his voice that hit her first, the cocky bravado that was the first thing she noticed and loathed about the man all those years ago in law school absent, and she found herself so surprised by it that it took another moment before she processed the words.

Confusion naturally came next, followed by scrutiny, and though she hated to admit it a small part of her began to become hopeful.

Finally, finally, _finally_…things would start to roll in the direction they should have been in all along. Focusing on Elliot Stabler's best interest, trying to spare him as much of this torture as they possibly could. His. The victim…the one true innocent in all of this.

Finally...the relief and gratefulness began to feel like air pulling her up off of her seat as she started to let herself think that maybe, just maybe, for once the world would serve the right side.

Until he continued on and Casey remembered harshly that this _was_ Dwight Haskins she was talking to here.

"Madison doesn't belong in prison, Casey," he said. "He's 24 years old…hell, practically still a _kid_. He doesn't deserve to be in here with killers."

She nearly choked on her own saliva with her sharp inhale of shock but couldn't help it. She began gathering up her steam to snap back at him but he kept talking before she had the chance.

"He's thought about it and I've convinced him that your deal will really be his best option," he went on. "He wants to cooperate, Casey…let him cooperate with you."

Sucking in her breath angrily, she had to take a moment to stop herself from flying off the handle.

_Just keep the game in focus…keep it in focus, Casey. You're not anybody's tool. _

When it became apparent that she still wasn't biting, Haskins persisted almost desperately. "This will make it easier on all of us," he said. "We-"

"Fine," she said coolly, interrupting him mid-stride. His startled silence was almost comical. She considered her words before delivering them with cold, calculated poise. "I'll be in Buffalo by Sunday evening."

Her lips curled with anger that was hardly matched with the venom that came into her voice.

"Let me be sure to remind you," she went on. "This is a favor I'm doing right now. I don't have to give your client anything and nothing I offer comes without a price. If Madison is serious about a deal, he's going to give me something in return…and _I_ will be making the boundaries." She paused almost predatorily, her voice lowering. "You be sure he knows that."

"Monday morning, then?" Haskins asked, sounding impatient.

"No," she said shortly. "I've got a witness to prepare and a hearing to attend to….your clients don't even _make_ my list of priorities, Dwight." She was sure to use his name again to emphasize what she thought of his authority. "When that's over with, I'll come by the holding center. It might be late afternoon; it might not be until evening. You get one chance…when I'm ready, you better be too."

And with those words, she hung up, not giving him the chance to say anything further. But instead of the satisfaction she was expecting, all she felt was anger.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He couldn't hide his grimace as he swallowed another mouthful. Olivia winced and reached beside her for the glass of water.

"Want some water?" she asked sympathetically, holding out her hand to take the cup of Ensure he held.

Elliot nodded, sighing as he handed it over to her and accepted the other glass. He took a long sip.

"I really don't like this stuff, Olivia," he said sourly.

Her face scrunched guiltily. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said softly. She pursed her lips sadly but couldn't think of anything to say.

Sighing again angrily, he set his face into a pout and took the Ensure back from her. He drank it down as quickly as he could.

She bit back the impulse to tell him to slow down, instead making herself stay silent and turning slightly to look out the window. The bright, cheerful sunshine made her smile longingly and she considered an idea carefully.

"Elliot," she said, turning back towards him. He slurped the last bit through the straw and set the cup down. She bit her lip slightly, looking over at the clock. "We don't have to be at Doctor Olivet's office for a few hours yet…do you want to go sit outside for a little while?"

His brow furrowed immediately in apprehension and she was quick to smile reassuringly.

"We won't leave the apartment," she said immediately. "I promise…we can sit right out on the front steps. It's such a pretty day…wouldn't it be nice to feel some sun for a little while?"

His lip came between his teeth, the indecision clear. He looked over at the window with a desperate expression, then back to her, and then to his lap. She held her breath discreetly as she waited quietly, not wanting to push him.

"Okay," he said after a minute, bringing his head up to gaze at her.

She was so expectant of hearing him refuse that it took a minute for her to realize that he was nodding and what it meant. When she did, her smile was huge and excited.

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He had one foot out of the office door when he heard the phone ring behind him. Scowling, Don turned back around.

"Cragen," he answered.

"It's Lieutenant Barry, sir," the young man identified at once.

His face instantly relaxed. "Oh, yes," he said in relief. "Hello, Lieutenant."

"Hello, sir," Barry answered rather awkwardly. "I, um…I got your message, Captain-"

"Yes," Cragen encouraged. "I have some personal business to attend to this afternoon and so I won't be-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I won't be able to," the other man finished apologetically before he could finish. Don was so surprised that he became speechless. "I've been assigned to oversee a task force of officers by my captain and he won't authorize my absence until it's finished."

Don felt his heart sink to his feet.

"I'm very sorry," Barry continued nervously. "It should only take a few days…he says maybe three at most. We're short on manpower right now."

"No," Cragen was quick to assure. "No, it's alright." He made sure to make his voice encouraging. "It's alright, Lieutenant, really. You've been doing me a great favor, above and beyond what I could hope for." He smiled weakly. "Don't even worry about it."

"I can be there as soon as my assignment is finished," Barry offered.

"No, don't worry about it," he said again. He paused to control the banging of his heart and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt. "Your first priority is your own job…I'll just get back to you if I need you later. Don't worry about it."

Despite his words, the young man continued to sound upset as they hung up. Don knew that he hadn't successfully managed to bury the emotions from his voice.

He sighed heavily and leaned his elbows on the desk, dropping his head in his hands in an uncharacteristic moment of helplessness.

Elliot needed him to keep coming to see him. Despite what he had told him, Don couldn't let himself wait until he was asked….his detective _needed_ to know that he still had support.

But despite his best efforts, every time he turned around he found another barrier in his way.

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"So, Elliot…"

Doctor Olivet's voice was pleasant and bright as she sat smiling across from him.

"Olivia tells me you went outside today."

She left the statement vaguely open, pausing for a sign of a reaction, and was pleased when she saw a small nod.

"How was it?" she continued warmly.

Elliot toyed with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt, picking absently at a small thread that had started becoming unraveled, and didn't look at her. He was silent for a few moments while she watched his fingers restlessly pulling and twisting and then just shrugged.

Elizabeth pursed her lips lightly, remaining relaxed and calm. She knew enough about him by now to know that pushing wouldn't get them anywhere.

"I know I wanted to be outside today," she said with slight wryness in her voice. "But I was so busy that I couldn't even leave the office until almost lunchtime…"

She pretended not to notice when his eyes came up quietly as she spoke and continued right on talking.

"…and that hardly counted because I only had enough time to grab something to eat from down the street and come right back."

She shook her head in disgust, rolling her eyes.

"But," she continued, instantly upbeat again, "even that little bit of time was worth it. It may have been freezing, but it was still gorgeous."

Elliot swallowed, looking at her hesitantly and ducking his head back down.

"The building across the street from Olivia's has plate glass windows," he said quietly.

He risked another quick look up before it was silent again for a moment. She watched him biting his lip, his lowered expression reflecting the internal struggle she knew it was causing him to make the effort he was.

"When the sun shone on them, it made a reflection in the street that made it look kind of like glass."

Her eyebrows rose merrily. "Oh, yeah?" she said in interest. She smiled when his somber gaze came up again. "That sounds like it would look really cool."

He nodded after a moment, but his eyes looked so lost and uncertain that it saddened her. She forced herself to keep her face bright.

"Did you go anywhere special?"

He shook his head quietly.

"Well, what did you do?" she persisted gently. Her head nodded toward him invitingly, her eyes warm. "Tell me about it."

He looked at her openly, his demeanor apprehensive and timid.

"We…we sat on the front steps," he said softly, seeming to be talking more at the ground than actually to her. His lip worked up and down inside his mouth like a nervous child's might. "There's a little…patch of concrete that has some potted plants in it. We sat next to that."

Doctor Olivet listened attentively, nodding. She'd noticed the area he was talking about herself the first time she had come to the apartment building and remembered how surprised she had been to see the small evidence of an attempt to make the place seem inviting. There weren't many places in the city that did a thing like that.

She took her time in formulating her question, knowing she had to venture tediously.

"How did you feel when you first got outside, Elliot?" she asked quietly.

He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, looking down at his lap again. As the silence began becoming increasingly longer, Elizabeth wondered with a sinking heart about if she had just ruined the entire rest of the session. But despite how much it hurt her, she forced herself to remain quiet and wait.

"Elliot?" she tried again gently after another few seconds. Her face was compassionate. "Can you tell me how you felt?"

His face twisted as if he was ashamed and his lips puckered slightly.

"Scared," he whispered quietly, almost making her lean forward to hear him. He kept his eyes tightly shut so he couldn't look at her.

She kept her tone warm and nonchalant. "What made you feel scared?"

He said nothing, tilting his face even further away. Her face sympathetic, Elizabeth nevertheless knew she had to make him talk. As painful as it was…it was the only way for it to start healing.

She just wished she could convince him of that.

"Did you see something that made you afraid?" she suggested warmly. "Hear a noise….smell something that reminded you of something scary?"

She could see his chin quivering and his lashes blinking repeatedly.

"I…I don't know," he said, sounding on the verge of breakdown. But Elizabeth could also hear the sound of desperation in his voice that gave her hope of being able to work through this. "I just…kept seeing all the people walking past and thinking…."

He trailed off. She practically had to make herself not jump out of her seat but just couldn't help it…this was so helpful. He probably didn't even _realize_ that he had just set up the progress.

"Thinking what?" she prompted softly.

He shook his head again, looking uncomfortably toward the wall. "I just kept waiting for one of them to jump out of the crowd," he said stiffly.

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "One of the people who hurt you?"

Elliot nodded without saying anything.

"Do you think about that a lot?" she asked sympathetically.

He bit his lip hesitantly, his eyes guarded as he returned his gaze to her. "Yes," he replied, his voice a little more than a whisper.

The pain in his voice made her heart ache. His head ducked down and he was silent for several moments. She watched him in quiet sympathy until she began to see the slight shaking of his shoulders. Elizabeth gently spoke up then, her voice calm and soothing.

"Elliot, do you remember a few days ago when we talked about some things that made you feel safe?" she said softly. She waited a moment before carefully continuing. "Do they work during times like this?"

He exhaled noisily and she could hear the turmoil clearly.

"Nothing works," he whispered tearfully, tears dropping quietly into his lap from his head still firmly averted. He shook his head desperately, sounding almost like he was in a daze. "Nothing."

His face twisted. "I try but…" She heard shame in his voice as it became even quieter. "I just can't stop being afraid."

Instantly letting him steer the conversation, Doctor Olivet gently attempted to get him to expound. "What makes you afraid?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes in anguish.

"I…" His words shook dangerously, almost cracking before his control broke and he clenched his mouth tightly as the tears came out again. "I don't want to go with them again." He bowed his head and sobbed quietly. "I don't want to."

Elizabeth looked at him tenderly. "Are you afraid that you'll have to go back with those people again, Elliot?" she asked.

He nodded miserably without looking up.

"Can you tell me why?" she asked carefully.

Elliot looked up hesitantly. "I miss my family," he said softly.

The innocence of the response made her choke up but Elizabeth kept her expression warm. "That is scary," she agreed softly, nodding sympathetically. Tears filled his eyes again as she spoke compassionately. "It must have felt awful when you were away from them, huh?"

He nodded, sniffling as he wiped his face hurriedly with his sleeve. His eyes were purposely not looking at her.

She cocked her head slightly and carefully attempted to probe further. "Are you scared of those _people, _Elliot?" she asked delicately. "Or is it just being away from everyone that scares you?"

She heard the increase in his breathing and the deep inhales he began to take, clearly communicating to her how he really felt. She went silent after a minute, knowing she should try to get him to tell her but feeling so much pain for him that she didn't want to.

"They're mean," he suddenly whispered shakily.

Doctor Olivet nodded encouragingly, looking at him compassionately. He bit his lip.

"Were they mean when you were with them?" she asked carefully after a moment, seeing he was struggling. He nodded again. She paused a moment. "What did they do that was mean?"

His brain conjured up the sound of a terrified, pained scream that sent chills up his spine as it bounced around and around his head. He didn't know where it came from.

"Yelled," he said timidly.

Elizabeth saw him start to tremble and couldn't tell if he realized it. "They yelled?" she repeated gently. "Did they yell at you?"

His face twisted. "I didn't like it," he said tearfully. "I wanted them to stop."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked softly.

Elliot swallowed and looked at her meekly. His eyes were tormented. "Scared me," he whispered, sounding ashamed.

Her heart surged with sympathy for him and it reflected in her voice. "Were you scared a lot when you were with these people?"

He nodded wordlessly and she sent a quick prayer for courage as she took the plunge.

"Elliot," Elizabeth began. She paused. "Did they do anything to hurt you?"

She watched him shrink back against the wheelchair slowly and squirm uncomfortably. She kept her face as open and gentle as she could.

"Elliot, I want you to know," she said warmly. "I'm your friend. I'm your friend and you can trust me." She sucked slightly on her lower lip. "Anything you say will stay just between me and you. I promise."

His eyes darted to the floor anxiously as she spoke and she tried hard not to make him feel cornered.

"Can you tell me if they hurt you?" she continued softly.

He inhaled through his nose and kept his gaze glued to his lap. She waited carefully for several moments, counting her heartbeats to remain patient.

He nodded finally.

"Can you tell me how?" she asked.

Elliot swallowed and sucked in his lips to keep them from quivering. "My arm," he said shakily.

Elizabeth tilted her head up slightly in acknowledgement. "They hurt your arm?" she confirmed, gesturing lightly toward the sling resting his arm across his lap. "That one?"

He seemed frozen in his position staring down, the movement of his head when he nodded barely noticeable.

"Did they hurt you anywhere else?" she continued tenderly.

He stayed silent, only the hitching of his breath audible in the room.

"I don't want to talk anymore," he whispered, his voice strained and raw.

Her heart plummeted. The painful foundation was barely established and already teetering. Once he shut down, the entire process would have to start over again from the beginning.

She debated over what to do as she glanced over at the clock. They had twenty minutes left of the session.

"How about we take a break?" she suggested kindly. "Want to?"

He nodded immediately. "I want to go home," he said, swallowing and wiping his face with his sleeve clumsily.

"I know," she said tenderly, smiling. "Elliot, we're almost done, I promise." She sucked in her lip somewhat nervously and tried not to show it. "But there are still some things I'd like to talk to you about and I'd like to do it while you're here."

His pained, weary expression made her grimace sympathetically and she was quick to continue with her plan.

"But how about if Olivia comes in here now?" she offered, knowing that the other woman was already aware of what she had to say. "We don't have to talk in private anymore… would it be okay if she comes in with us while we finish?"

His eyes looked at her hopefully and he nodded again. Elizabeth smiled and stood, walking towards the open door.

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The elevator doors opened and he maneuvered his way around the people inside to step off with a tired sigh. He and Fin had been chasing down leads all day in hopes of finding the man they thought was their university rapist.

His partner had gone back to the station after the fourth lead came up with nothing, having paperwork up to his elbows and needing to get depositions done before the end of the day for the captain. John had volunteered two more hours after Fin had gone digging through dusty storage lockers at the local missing persons unit without really knowing what he was really looking for.

He sighed wearily again as he shuffled toward the squad room. Hopefully he had some change somewhere in his desk, because he hadn't eaten since around eleven that morning and was so hungry that he could eat the plastic wrap off of a sandwich right now without complaining.

"Hey…John!"

The hurried call made him pause and turn around, not recognizing the voice when he heard it. A detective he knew only vaguely named Debbie Hart was half-running awkwardly toward him with an armful of files.

"You're going to the squad room, right?" she asked breathlessly, sounding hurried. She was already opening her arms to deposit the files onto him. "You mind dropping these in the captain's office? I was just on my way but we got called to a-"

"Deb, we gotta go!" A slightly impatient male voice came from further down the hall, a man Munch assumed to be her partner. He was gesturing to her with both hands and looking frantic.

Hart glanced behind her and then back to John with anxious eyes. He immediately took the files she was holding, waving at her to go.

"I got it," he said quickly, thinking that the woman _had_ to be a rookie since no one else would actually worry about a few files when a case was breaking. "Get out of here, I'll take care of it. Don't worry."

Her sunny smile, another painful sign of a detective not yet jaded by the world they worked in every day, was grateful as she flashed lovely white teeth at him.

"Thank you," she said, nodding in appreciation.

John nodded quickly and waved her away insistently, managing to smile back without knowing how. The female detective was gone in a flurry of skidding boots and focused determination.

Shaking his head, Munch shifted the files more securely and continued on to the bull pen.

Fin glanced up amidst typing when he came inside and then back down again, obviously busy. John began making his way toward the captain's office, his stomach beginning to growl.

He was halfway across the room when Cragen came hurrying out, surprising him.

"Hey, Cap-" he began, indicating his armload.

"Later," Don cut him off immediately, looking frazzled. "Whatever it is, it'll have to wait…I'm late for a meeting." The lanky detective nodded and continued forward, only to whip around when the captain called his name from behind him. Cragen was walking backward, facing him as he exited. "The Anderson file is on my desk…sign it and get it down to booking before five."

He disappeared down the hall and John scowled. Fin smirked without looking up, knowing his partner could see it.

He made his way through the open office doorway and plopped the files on the side of the large desk. Then he came around the chair to look for the Anderson file.

The desk top was already cluttered with several documents, all of which looked similar to the one John was currently in search of. He cursed under his breath as he moved papers around clumsily, trying not to mess them up.

"Anderson…Anderson…" he muttered, picking up a few sheets and looking around them. He lowered them back with a growl. "Damn it…"

His hand slid over another few and suddenly slipped, sending them fluttering to the floor under the desk. John cursed again and stepped back to get them, bending down only to have a document catch his eye with his handwriting on it. The file he needed was sitting harmlessly by itself in plain sight.

"That figures," he said in disgust, shaking his head as he gathered the papers. He felt like an intruder in here and wanted to get out as quickly as possible. "The damn thing _would_ be-"

He trailed off, feeling something rigid and odd in between the sheets of paper he had picked up. When he moved them aside he recognized the plastic of a driver's license.

Immediately, he put the papers back in place and began setting the item down near the middle of the desk where the captain could see it. Most likely it had been taken off of some scumbag down in the lockup sometime recently and would need to be taken to the clerk as soon as possible…it wouldn't help if it got lost.

All of the sudden he froze in his tracks, feeling all of the blood in his system rushing to his head.

It belonged to Elliot.

The driver's license on the desk….belonged to Elliot.

He stared numbly at the two words making up his name and the head shot on the upper right side, seeing them but not really processing that he had.

It still had dirt smudged on it from the night they had found it.

That night in the Brooklyn subway terminal…that night they had discovered the sixth victim to be added to the collection of souls brutally mutilated.

The one with this license lying on top of it. The one they thought had been Elliot Stabler.

"_John…" He didn't even recognize the hoarse voice in his sleep-filled head, still trying to wake up after being jostled from early morning sleep. "John, there…there's been a sixth victim."_

_He realized the voice belonged to Cragen at the same time that the meaning of what he was saying hit him full-force in the gut. The phone fell from his hand before he knew what was happening._

He couldn't breathe….Jesus Christ, he was having a heart attack. He had to be. He couldn't get a breath.

Inhaling desperately, John leaned weakly against the desk to support himself. His hands trembled.

_A piercing scream cut through the air suddenly and made the officers standing nearby jump. Two of them ran towards the yellow tape at once, and after a minute the others followed. _

_He hurried past Fin who was reaching to catch a sobbing Olivia and fell blindly, banging his knees against hard metal grating. He heaved and puked violently until he thought he would die._

_This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be…not Elliot. Jesus God…please not Elliot._

He bowed his head, the tears erupting in the quiet of the empty office around him.

_Cragen was standing in front of him, his face sympathetic and agonized at the same time. _

_The light was reflecting off of his glasses and he could hardly see…he realized numbly that he was standing directly in the beam of the motion-sensor light shining on the porch but couldn't move._

_He thought he was going to puke again._

"_What if he died thinking I was mad at him?" He just couldn't stop sobbing…he couldn't remember the last time he had cried this way. "I didn't mean it! I swear to God, if I had known-if I knew he wouldn't be-" _

_He could hardly speak. He hung his head. _

"_He's my friend, Captain," he whispered painfully, gulping in air. His heart felt like it was burning. "I don't want him to think I'm not still his friend."_

All of the guilt, fear, and regret he had been feeling since coming back to the station engulfed him at once suddenly and he was on his knees before he realized it. His stomach heaved in the same agonizing fashion as it had that night but thankfully it was too empty to produce anything.

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He reached for her immediately when she came inside. Smiling and trying not to show how nervous she was, Olivia took the hand outstretched toward her warmly as she sat down in the chair he was parked next to.

"We did well today," Elizabeth said brightly, smiling as the other woman took her seat. Her eyes were tender towards him. "Elliot, you should feel very proud…I know I am."

He said nothing in response, seeming to have almost tuned out once he had gotten the contact with Olivia that he had so desperately wanted since the moment they had arrived. He clung tightly to her hand and moved as close to her as humanly possible without falling out of his chair.

Elizabeth nodded empathetically. "You really did," she went on. She looked at Olivia with a smile as well. "Really wonderful."

The brunette detective was smiling lovingly. She was forced to hook her arm slightly over the back of the wheelchair to keep him from crushing it as he leaned up against her but he seemed totally unaware of his own position. He was just hanging on to her hand and breathing easier than he had during the entire session.

He had no hesitations showing how much he trusted and took comfort in her. It was painfully obvious right now and humbled her on such a deep level that she became choked up.

"I don't doubt it," she replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

Doctor Olivet glanced at the other woman, her eyes betraying the easy demeanor that they were both putting on for his sake. Olivia looked back and saw that Elizabeth was looking just as nervous as she knew she was inside.

Doctor Olivet took a deep breath.

"Okay," she said lightly. "Um…" She took another breath. "Elliot…now that Olivia is here, I'd like to talk to you about our visits."

She wasn't sure if the tone of her voice gave away the seriousness she was trying to lighten, but could tell instantly when he seemed to pick up on something. His face tightened and she saw his eyes narrow cautiously.

Olivia felt his fingers grip tighter to hers and felt horrible about what she knew they had no choice but to make him face.

"Since we're just really starting," she went on, "it would be my strong suggestion that we meet at least three times a week to talk." Her voice was compassionate. "I certainly won't force you…but I really think that the more we talk about how you feel, the more it will help."

He was looking at her dreadfully, as if she had just asked him to consider letting her pluck his eyeballs out. The look killed her, and the knowledge that it was only going to get worse made her stomach queasy.

Olivia was trying to control her breathing so it wouldn't be obvious how tightly she was holding on to her emotions. She shifted her hand slightly in his so that she could grip it more securely, but she wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure at the moment.

"However," Elizabeth said, softer, "right now, I think we need to plan on meeting tomorrow too instead of waiting for next week."

The female detective closed her eyes, selfishly praying inside that he wouldn't ask, that he wouldn't ask, that he wouldn't ask…

"Why?" he asked nervously.

_Fuck_. Her stomach rolled.

When she opened her eyes, Olivia saw Doctor Olivet looked at her and biting her lip slightly. Elliot realized where her attention was and looked beside him after a minute to her as well.

Suddenly she wished she was back in bed and had never had this conversation with Elizabeth…that this wasn't needed at all.

Her heart was fluttering nervously as she forced herself to keep her tears at bay. She swallowed and brought her other hand up to clasp his tenderly.

The look in his eyes almost destroyed her.

"Elliot," she said, horrified when she realized her voice was shaking. She squeezed his hand lovingly. "Honey….Casey is going to be coming over tonight." Her voice caught and she almost sobbed but cut it off. "She needs to prepare your testimony."

The silence that filled the room was so tense that, if she listened hard, she thought she might actually hear the terrified pounding of his heart that she was feeling against her hand.


	54. Chapter 54

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The vibration inside her purse was loud and sudden, making her and at least two others that she could see around her visibly jump out of their intense concentration. The professor faltered for a brief second, looking around curiously before continuing on with his discussion.

Maureen reached down beside her chair, bracing her hand against the binder open to the day's lecture notes to keep her balance, and into her purse. She fumbled for the side pocket as the phone continued vibrating.

It had stopped by the time she managed to close her fingers around it. Pulling it out, she set it in her lap and flipped it open to see the number for the missed call.

Seeing her home number blinking from the faceplate was unexpected and surprising. Her brows furrowing, she checked the time, almost positive that neither her mom nor her siblings should be there right now.

When she saw that it was a little past three, her heart began to pound harder. Anxiety coursed through her veins and the first terrifying thought to pop into her head was that something had happened with her dad.

Despite having almost forty-five minutes left of class, Maureen immediately closed the binder and slid her purse onto her shoulder. She got up and slipped quietly out the door before running toward the stairwell where she would get better reception.

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He hadn't spoken a word since getting into the car.

The silence itself didn't worry her as much. The visits usually exhausted him, plus after the bombshell she had just dropped on him back in Doctor Olivet's office she was expecting him to be having trouble processing right now.

But his body language was different this time than the others. He didn't appear tired and in fact seemed to be consciously sitting as ramrod straight as he could while clenching the seatbelt tightly in his fist. He was looking straight ahead out the windshield and the glassiness evident in his eyes instinctively made her start to feel nervous.

After about ten minutes into the drive home, Olivia cleared her throat slightly and glanced over beside her.

"Elliot?" she asked softly, the concern obvious in her tone. "Are you alright?"

She saw his eyes jerk unsteadily, as if she had somehow startled him. His head turned towards her slightly before quickly returning back to where it had been. He nodded tensely, the movement so forced and obviously uncomfortably that it made lines of strain appear in his neck for a moment.

His fingers continued to squeeze the seatbelt in gentle patterns and the silence settled immediately again.

She sucked in her lip, swallowed painfully, and continued driving without trying to break it.

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"….Today, on _Dr. Phil…"_

She paused in her scrubbing and turned her shoulder toward the television, craning her neck so she could see.

A young female voice filtered out from the screen. "…I don't see why it's such a big deal…why give it to me if you don't want me to use it?"

The famous psychologist's strong voice followed. "Parents giving their children credit cards," she heard as clips of teenagers laughing at a mall flashed over the television. "Who's responsible for the spending society?"

Kathy laughed out loud as the theme song for the show began to play. Too bad she didn't have _Tivo…_her children would be the perfect audience for this one. Dickie asked her if he "could just have five bucks" almost every other day and Kathleen's newest persistence was trying to get her to give her one of those student credit cards that had preset spending amounts on it.

Chuckling ruefully, she turned her attention back to the potatoes she was scrubbing. She was just picking up the third one when the phone suddenly rang behind her. She wiped her hands on the back of her jeans and dropped the potato, walking to the counter.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Mom?"

The panicked voice of her oldest daughter instantly sent her heart into her throat.

"Maureen," she said worriedly. "What's the matter? What-"

"Is Daddy okay?" Maureen interrupted. She sounded on the verge of tears. "Did something happen?"

Shocked, Kathy found herself speechless for a moment. "Honey," she said in concern. "I….no, honey, he's…he's fine as far as I know." The confusion in her voice couldn't be masked. "What-?"

She was interrupted again by her daughter's near-rambles. "Why are you home?" she continued. "I saw that you called, Mom, and you're not usually home now...Dad's okay?"

Guilt and horror slammed into her chest, nearly taking her breath away as she suddenly realized how much she had probably just terrified her child. Her eyes closed in utter shock at the level of insensitivity she had inadvertently just displayed.

"God," she breathed, her face burning. "Oh, God…honey, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking….Maureen, I'm sorry. Everything is fine. There's nothing wrong, everything is fine…I didn't mean to scare you."

The audible sigh of relief from the other end made her feel even worse. "I just need to know if you have any plans tonight because I'd like to see if you could come home for a little while."

Surprise chased away the leftover adrenaline and the young woman frowned curiously but before she could say anything her mother was continuing on.

Kathy's voice was quieter than normal. "I'm making steak and baked potatoes if you want to come for dinner."

There was silence for a brief moment and Maureen tried to hide her confusion. "You're…you're sure there's nothing wrong?" she asked hesitantly.

"Nothing is wrong," she repeated. "I…I just need to talk to you guys and I'd like to do it with us all together." She paused, the tone continuing to mystify her daughter. "Could you spare an hour of your night?"

Maureen huffed out a laugh, trying desperately to calm the sudden feeling of dread forming in her stomach.

"You make it sound like I have such an active social life," she said weakly, swallowing. "Yeah…sure, Mom, it's not a problem. I can be there."

"Save you a place at the table?" Kathy asked quietly. "We'll eat at around six."

Maureen shook her head, trying not to focus too much on the dullness in her mother's voice. "I won't say no to a free meal," she answered lightly. "I'll be there."

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When he came back into the squad room, Don saw that two pairs of detectives were gone and that the desk nearest to him was only half-occupied. His eyebrows went up immediately, knowing that he hadn't assigned anything to the pair with one partner currently missing, and he couldn't stop the suspicious feeling of annoyance from creeping into his voice.

"Fin, where is John?" he asked, approaching the side of the desk where the man was still working on the same pile he had been when he left for the meeting. "Booking has been closed for twenty minutes and I sent him there almost an hour ago."

The detective shrugged, looking up.

"Got me, Captain," he said dryly, sounding about as interested in his partner's whereabouts as he would a day-old tuna sandwich. "Took his keys when he left and said to tell you he'd 'be back'."

The older man's face darkened considerably and Fin stared at him hesitantly, not wanting to look too long for fear it may become directed at him.

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Her cell phone rang as the elevator doors opened. Olivia pulled it from her coat pocket as she continued them both forward into the elevator.

"Benson," she answered, absently running her hand over her partner's back. He had his eyes on the floor and didn't respond but she kept it up anyway.

"Hey, Olivia…"

Casey. Her eyes slammed shut despite herself but she made sure not to project the dread in her voice.

"Hi," she replied as nonchalantly as she could. Her eyes became fixed on the buttons as they lit up with each passing floor.

"Um…what-what time would be good for me to come over?" the attorney asked nervously. "I've got everything set…so whenever you guys are ready I can come out there."

Olivia swallowed.

"Um…" she said awkwardly. "Um…okay…well, we're just coming back from seeing the doctor, so…" She tried to form coherent thoughts past the nervous fog that had suddenly settled over her brain. "Can you give us a couple hours and then I can call you?"

"Sure," Casey said, sounding sympathetic and uncharacteristically quiet. Obviously she was dreading this too. "That will be fine." She sounded nervous. "But…try- try not to make it too late if you can, because I'll need to make sure we can go at a comfortable pace and be able to anticipate anything that may come up."

Feelings of illness washed over the detective sharply but she held her composure.

"I won't," she promise. "Give us a little while to get settled and I promise I'll call you."

She slid the phone back into her pocket as the car stopped and the doors opened again. Silently, she pushed him out and began toward her apartment.

"Who was that?"

His voice surprised her but she didn't show it. Not wanting to lie, she regretfully told him.

"Casey," she answered softly. "She…"

Her voice trailed off suddenly as they turned the corner and she couldn't do anything but gape in utter surprise as she looked toward her apartment.

John Munch was standing by her door with his hands meekly shoved in his pockets.

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Despite how much she was enjoying having the break, Melinda was anxiously awaiting the end of the weekend already and it hadn't even started yet. She never thought she would be so eager to return to cold metal tables and deceased subjects, but the anticipation was all but making her crazy. Not having her pager turned on felt almost like being naked.

Granted, it would only be three days after returning that she would have to leave again, but for now it felt better to think about what she would be coming back to than about what she would be traveling toward next Thursday.

The sound of the school bell ringing interrupted her thoughts and she allowed them to leave her mind for the moment. She focused on the swarm of children racing out of the building, eager and excited for the two-day reprieve from being cooped up doing class work.

She spotted her daughter in the fray after a few moments and the smile she received warmed her heart as Kayla waved excitedly. She waved back and climbed out of the car as the girl ran towards it, her hair and book bag bouncing with each step.

"Mom!" Kayla said happily, her eyes glowing with happiness. "I didn't know _you_ were coming to pick me up today!"

Melinda stooped down to hug her tightly, holding on a bit too long without knowing why. She raked her hand through her daughter's curls that were starting to border on frizzy after a day of movement and fiddling.

"Daddy has to stay at work until later," she explained. She smiled widely. "So it's just you and me tonight, kiddo…" She raised her eyebrows slyly. "You still want to go see _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_?"

The girl's eyes bugged out of her head in disbelieving excitement and she couldn't help but laugh. A night out was an extremely rare occurrence in the Warner household and their daughter had been pleading for weeks to go to the movies after seeing the preview showing her favorite Saturday morning cartoon on the big screen.

"Can we get tacos too?" Kayla asked, sounding awed.

Melinda laughed again. Any time they ever even came _near_ the mall, her daughter would ask for Taco Bell. They didn't eat out that often either but she knew for a fact that the mother of one of her daughter's friends often took the girls to the mall food court whenever Kayla spent the night there.

"Sure we can," she agreed, nodding. She hesitated, looking at her daughter's outfit. "Why don't we go home and change and then we can go?"

Kayla shook her head, her lower lip curving into a slight pout. "Can't I stay in my dress?" she asked pleadingly. "Please, Mommy? I promise I won't get it dirty…"

She bit her lip to stifle a chuckle…she could see the evidence on Kayla's pantyhose of time spent on her knees in the dirt during recess that day along with the Crayola marker stains coloring the edges of her sleeve and the kitten-shaped pocket adorned in the light purple dress she wore. It never failed to amaze her how her daughter could be such a tomboy but still insist on wearing dresses whenever she could.

She melted easily, shaking her head.

"Alright," she said, rolling her eyes slightly. Her daughter beamed happily. "But the movie doesn't start for about an hour and a half so let's still go home for a little bit, 'kay?"

She could tell her daughter was as happy as could be as she climbed inside the passenger seat. Melinda felt her heart crumbling slightly as she shut the door and moved around to climb back behind the wheel. The sound of off-key, made-up singing only made it worse as she saw how excited Kayla was.

Come Monday….times like this would become almost non-existent again.

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The sound of movement alerted him and he turned around to see Olivia coming towards him, pushing Elliot in a wheelchair.

For a moment, John couldn't even breathe.

Almost two months since being discovered beaten beyond recognition and helpless on a beach in Niagara…yet here sat Elliot Stabler right now in front of his eyes, looking so much better than what John had been bracing to see that it made him lose his breath.

Tears rushed to his eyes so fast that it shocked him.

"John."

Olivia's stunned voice registered in his mind but he found he couldn't look away from her partner.

His heart was pounding so hard that he feared he would have a coronary. He had to take one hand out of his pocket to grip the wall so that he could stand without swaying.

"Hi, Olivia."

He was vaguely aware of his own voice quietly responding to her on auto-pilot as his mind continued focusing solely on the man sitting in the wheelchair five feet from where he stood.

He realized his voice was trembling too late to prevent it.

"Hi, Elliot," he continued softly.

The paralyzing fear that had been holding him in place for the last twenty-six seconds increased the moment the words left his mouth but he forced himself to stand straight and take whatever came.

Each beat of silence that replied to him twisted his heart more until he could hardly stand it. And then Elliot's eyes came up for the briefest of seconds while his head stayed down.

The unmistakable shame John saw in them broke every wall he was precariously attempting to keep in place.

It was just too painful. He had made a here had been a huge mistake.

He just couldn't face it.

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She couldn't stop her heart from sinking as they got closer.

John had absolutely terrible timing.

But Olivia forced a smile on her face and continued propelling them toward the door, stopping the wheelchair gently.

"John," she said in surprise, trying to sound inviting…..like he hadn't just thrown them for a completely unexpected loop at the worst possible time right now.

He replied to her cordially, his tone quieter than she remembered, and it startled her for a slight moment to realize that seven weeks away from work had her forgetting what his voice had sounded like.

She kept her eyes on him as she dug discreetly for her keys, feeling the awkwardness immediately rising over them. But she froze when she heard her friend greet Elliot and couldn't stop her heart from skipping a momentary rhythm.

Even from behind him, she could tell that her partner was looking steadfastly at his feet and her heart broke for him. She placed an ever-so-light hand near the middle of his back, above the chair, but didn't speak.

Right now, her presence wasn't what was important.

The agony on John's face as the silence began becoming louder made her heart break for him as well. It was a rare occurrence to be able to read emotions on the man's face but right now she could see every bit of the fear and sadness inside of him.

Torn over what to do, Olivia bit her lip and fumbled with her keys again. The noise seemed to startle John and she saw his eyes jerk toward her.

"Sorry we weren't here," she said lightly, not intending to explain away her partner's behavior but not wanting John to feel the awkwardness was his fault. "We were at the doctor's office…"

As she trailed off, she realized that she had no idea how to handle this. Concern for her partner's well-being warred with sympathy for a friend obviously hurting badly and she didn't know what to do.

Swallowing, she stepped up to unlock the door and John immediately stepped aside.

"Do…do you want to come in?" she asked softly.

She was startled to see the man's face suddenly take on a slightly pale color. John swallowed.

"Oh….no," he said quickly, shaking his head. His smile was forced and didn't fool her. "No, no…I just-just wanted…" He was nearly rambling. "To come say hi. That's…that's all. No, I-I have to get back to work."

He was nodded insistently, as if needing convincing.

It wasn't lost on her that Elliot was silent throughout this and she ached to know what he was thinking. She swallowed and pushed open the door.

"It's been kind of a long day," she said by way of apology. She smiled tenderly at the other man. "How about I give you a call later to come over for a visit?"

He continued nodding, not even looking at her.

"Yeah, yeah, that'll be fine," he said in a rush, suddenly needing to get out before his oxygen supply ran out. His words were awkward even to him and his face was flaming. "Sorry…I didn't mean to catch you by surprise. I'll just go…yeah, I'll talk to you later."

He was pushing past them toward the elevator before she had a chance to say another word. She stared after his retreating form for a moment in despair, an anxious sigh escaping lightly from her lips as she continued on inside the apartment.

She felt horrible for John and made a mental note to talk to him as soon as possible but it didn't stop her from storing the thoughts away immediately. There was too much else to focus on right now.

The chair was parked next to the couch and Olivia came around to be in front of him, plastering a reassuring smile on her face that she hoped was convincing.

"You need anything?" she asked softly.

She was still struggling internally with trying to keep from making him feel patronized when offering her help. Needing help with using the bathroom was still so humiliating for him, especially during these times when he had to rely on her and not Kathy…she had learned after a little while that casualness was easier than straightforward asking.

Elliot shook his head and she nodded, sucking on her lip slightly. "Sure?" she pressed nonchalantly.

His answer was the same and she dropped the subject immediately after that.

"Okay," she said easily. "Let's get this coat off...you must be boiling."

She peeled away the blanket and scarf protecting his exposed skin from the cold outside air before pulling the zipper down on his coat far enough for him to reach. She backed off instantly as his hand came up to do it himself and then gently helped him remove the coat from his shoulders.

Laying the coat and scarf over the side of the couch, she knelt down to hover her hands over his waist without touch him yet. "Ready?" she asked softly.

He said nothing but the quiet sigh that came from his mouth as he struggled forward sounded tormented and made her brows furrow in concern.

She waited until she felt him pressing up against her before wrapping her arms around him in a hold almost like a bear-hug and bracing herself as his feet slid painstakingly over her shoes. His arm came up to cling to her neck and she held her breath for strength, lifting as much of his weight as she could while awkwardly shuffling them both the few steps toward the couch cushion.

He was lowered down gently and slumped against the back, disentangling himself while she ducked out of her own hold around him. She could only imagine how frustrated he was and attempted to make light by making a gentle joke about needing to work out, but she could tell it fell flat before it even left her mouth. His eyes were empty and she sensed that right now he wanted to be left alone.

Turning as she took off her own coat, Olivia took his rabbit from its customary spot in the seat of the wheelchair and smiled gently, holding it out toward him. She was a little shocked when he didn't reach for it this time and instead just turned his head into the cushion with another sigh.

She bit her lip sympathetically.

"I'll be right back," she said softly, taking his coat and her own into her arms.

She placed the stuffed animal lightly beside him and turned away to walk to the hall closet.

He waited a few seconds even after hearing her in the other room before peeking out slowly to be sure she was no longer beside him. He turned his body slightly, curling his arm around the rabbit immediately and engulfing it from view.

He dropped his face into the cushion again, bringing the soft plush up towards his chin and hugging it to him with his eyes closed.

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The front door opening from downstairs surprised her enough to pause momentarily amidst the book, but the sound of her older sister's voice shocked her into setting it aside and getting up.

Elizabeth approached the top of the stairs curiously and was greeted by Maureen, looking up at her from the bottom.

"Hey, Squirt," she said teasingly as she shrugged off her coat.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked in curious delight, coming down the stairs.

"Mom asked me to come for dinner," Maureen answered, turning to hang the coat in the hall closet. "Said she wanted to 'talk' to us." She aimed a teasing grin at her sister's approaching form as she went toward the kitchen. "What did you guys do this time?"

Her words floated past as she entered the other room and caused Elizabeth to stop on the final step, her brows suddenly creasing anxiously.

_Oh, man…I hope Dickie hasn't been charging up the phone bill again…I swear if he gets the phone taken away from us I will beat him to a pulp._

The cell phone plan that her mom was on gave them three additional cell phones. Since both Maureen and Kathleen had jobs and could pay the bill, they each were given one while Kathy paid for the other two…which meant that, as usual, she got stuck sharing the remaining phone with her twin.

To be honest, it didn't really bother her. Most of her friends lived in the neighborhood and they usually always met up by walking to each other's houses anyway….plus none of them had cell phones themselves, so it wasn't like she really had anyone to call.

Her brother, on the other hand, had acted like their mom had just fated them to sharing the same pair of shoes for the rest of their life. He had gone halfway ballistic when told of the arrangement, arguing that it wasn't fair and that he needed one of his own because God forbid someone have to actually call the _house_ to make plans with him.

She tried to tell him not to push their mom over the edge…the idiot just didn't seem to understand that making her _angry_ wasn't usually a good way to get what he wanted. But as usual he hadn't listened and had only relented finally after their mom had furiously told him the other option was that Elizabeth could have the phone herself and he could wait until he got a job to buy his own.

Even sharing it, he was the one who usually always had it, but she was starting to use it more too and certainly didn't need for it to be restricted because of something stupid he had done.

She cautiously followed her sister's trail toward the kitchen and continued thinking nervously about what could be the reason for their mother's unusual request.

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She pulled into an empty space and shifted the car into park, taking her foot from the clutch as she pulled up the emergency brake.

For a moment, Casey just sat and listened to the engine of the sleek Infiniti cooling off as she tried to get her thoughts together.

The briefcase lying on the passenger seat was not her normal leather portable, instead a much larger, heavy-handled professional device with more room for the many documents it was currently holding.

She'd had the thing for years but couldn't remember ever using it before. It had been a gift from her father upon receiving her state license to practice law along with the car.

Jeremy Novak was accomplished and confident when dealing with his private firm but distant when it came to being a father. The car had thrilled her but even as she was gaping over it Casey hadn't been able to stop the envious heartbreak at seeing the man across the street having a tea party outside with his young daughter. For her dad, expensive presents and money had always been easier to give than warmth and hugs.

She didn't know why she was thinking about that right now.

Casey opened the door and stepped out, reaching in to get the briefcase. She hit the electronic lock to secure the doors.

The case felt awkward in her hand and she couldn't keep the heavy thing from bumping into her jean-clad legs as she walked up to the building. She reached the front stoop and switched the handle to the opposite hand.

She paused a moment and just stood, swallowing.

Then she reached out to buzz the intercom for Olivia's apartment.

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She had never really thought before about how long it had been since she'd gotten to have steak until her first bite of medium-rare New York strip sirloin. It may has well have been a filet mignon, it tasted so good on her tongue. Her mom had put some kind of marinade on it that was so delicious that she didn't even need any steak sauce.

And Maureen Stabler was almost _addicted_ to steak sauce.

She also hadn't thought about how long it had been since the last time she had eaten such a filling meal until she realized in embarrassment that she'd inhaled almost half of her plate before the others had finished even a quarter of their meat.

Kathy chuckled lightly when she saw the look of embarrassment on her oldest daughter's face and couldn't resist teasing her a little.

"They starving you up there at school?" she asked.

She saw Kathleen smirk snidely from her place across the table and glared at her sourly.

"Funny," Maureen replied dryly, keeping her tone light so as not to offend her mother. "I'd like to see _you _try living off of Raman Noodles and Cheetos."

Dickie grinned from his seat next to Kathy, and as Maureen looked at him, she was struck suddenly by how devilish he could look when he wanted to.

"You know," he said. "I remember when you used to eat yogurt for breakfast while the rest of us had bacon and sausage." His eyebrows rose slyly. "Guess those days are over?"

His teasing remark was intended to ruffle her feathers. But almost immediately he had the image in his mind of that breakfast table, that white tub of yogurt sitting beside his Batman glass. And their father at the head of the table, smiling and teasing as he pushed meat onto her plate anyway.

He quickly shook his head and tried not to think about it, but one look at his twin's face told him that the three of them were right there with him.

Back in that moment, with their family intact and whole. Together.

Safe.

The table had become eerily quiet and no one seemed to realize it until their mother spoke.

"Guys." Her voice was soft and understanding, like she knew exactly what they were all thinking. She hesitated. "I…I was planning to have us all sit down in the living room….but I think we should go ahead and talk now."

Elizabeth's head was the first to snap toward her, anxiety and nervousness etched on her face, but then immediately returned to look at her lap, as if for some reason she was afraid to be caught looking. Dickie was trying to act nonchalant to hide his nervousness and Maureen was looking dreadfully back at her.

Obviously, her attempt to keep her emotions hidden hadn't worked as well as she'd hoped.

"What about?" Kathleen asked matter-of-factly.

Kathy felt a lump in her throat as she gazed around at each one of her children, taking them in as if seeing them for the first time.

The tears threatening to spill out of their mother's eyes were plainly obvious. Maureen felt her heart starting to pound as seconds of silence turned into a minute and she saw her youngest sister glance toward her with a stricken expression.

"Mom?" she prodded nervously, furrowing her brow.

Kathy shook her head slightly and swallowed, deciding the best thing to do was to just come out with it.

"Next Friday your dad is going to be going up to Buffalo to talk in front of a court," she said nervously. She had to pause to swallow again. "About what happened to him."

The table was so quiet that they could have heard a pin drop.

After a minute, Elizabeth spoke. "What will he have to say?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically small and young.

She felt like her heart was going to slide right out of her chest and down her stomach. She inhaled through her nose. "They-" Kathy said chokingly before having to start over. "They'll ask him questions about when he was taken. He'll be talking about that."

Again the tense silence settled. She couldn't meet any of their eyes as hard as she tried because all four of them had suddenly fixed their gazes somewhere else. They looked so shaken that Kathy almost cried again.

_This was a bad idea…God, I knew this was a bad idea… _

_He's their father! How can I shelter them from this? They need to know, they __**deserve**__ to know and express their feelings._

She closed her eyes.

_I wish I could shelter them from this. Oh, I wish I could._

Her son's trembling voice made her open her eyes again. The expression on his face made her have to bite her lip hard to stay in control and she realized she hadn't listened to what he said. He was breathing deeply and visibly sucking in tears, trying to look tough.

"What, sweetie?" she asked softly, clearing her throat.

He didn't reply for several moments and she took the time while he was getting composure to look at her girls again.

Kathleen was fiddling with her napkin, hands shredding the paper listlessly. Her head was down too far for Kathy to see her face. Lizzie was crying freely now, sniffling and exhaling tearfully with each breath while keeping her sobs quiet. Maureen had her head down as well but was also crying quietly.

"Will they be there?" he repeated roughly. He took another breath. "The men who did it?"

Her stomach slammed to the floor.

She couldn't lie to her children. She couldn't.

Before she could say anything, Kathleen got up from her chair and disappeared from the room.

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She opened the door and tried to smile, but didn't quite make it.

"Hi, Casey," she said quietly. The weariness in her voice couldn't be masked as she stepped aside. "Come in."

The blonde summoned up a nervous smile. "Thanks," she replied, crossing over the threshold and into the apartment.

She shifted the briefcase again and stopped awkwardly, uncomfortably standing still in the small hallway as Olivia locked the door behind her.

"Come on in," Olivia repeated, gesturing as they walked toward the living room. Her voice was strained and the tone suddenly softened as they stopped in the entrance. "You can go ahead and have a seat… just give me a minute."

Casey followed her into the living room, puzzled by the apologetic comment until she was able to see the couch. Elliot was curled tightly up against the back cushion, his face buried from sight. His back was the only part facing them.

Olivia pursed her lips sadly as she continued forward toward the couch. The attorney swallowed and turned, perching on the small recliner and setting the briefcase on the floor by her feet. She blinked rapidly and looked away, feeling uncomfortably like a voyeur and like her heart was going to break at the same time.

The other woman sat down gently in the seat next to her partner and leaned forward, placing both of her hands lightly near his upper back. She began to rub slowly and tilted her face near the crook of his neck, her words soft when she spoke.

"Hey," she whispered soothingly.

He whimpered immediately, knowing what she was going to say and desperately not wanting to hear it. Her face screwed up sadly as she bit her lip, reaching up to carefully stroke his hair.

"Elliot, you can tell us what's bothering you," she said painfully. She inhaled wetly and swallowed, making her voice as gentle as she could. "Really you can."

The despair on her face was painful to see. Casey's nerves were so tightly wound that she could hardly focus her attention away to give them as much privacy as the situation allowed.

"She's your friend…you know that," she went on softly, still continuing to speak more at his back than actually to him because he wouldn't move. "You don't have to be scared to talk to her. I promise you don't. She's your friend."

The realization of what Olivia was saying made Casey's throat suddenly expand and she momentarily couldn't draw a breath. The pain and horror hit her right in the gut as agony flooded her body.

_Oh my God…he's afraid. He's afraid to talk to me because he thinks I look down on him._

Olivia's hand rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. She rested her face sympathetically against his back as she moved her hand over his spine and bit her lip. Her face turned out and she looked at Casey hesitantly.

Words weren't even needed. Just her look alone told Casey that that this moment was either going make him or break him.

And Olivia was silently begging her not to break him.

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes, Casey drew in a breath and moved closer to the edge of the chair.

"And I'm so glad," she added on softly. The nervousness was making her voice shake slightly. "I love having you as my friend, Elliot."

There was no response from the silent form next to her as Olivia kept her hand on his back. Her eyes locked with Casey's green ones and the watery sheen she saw surprised her, though she realized it shouldn't have.

The other woman swallowed. "I've wanted to come for a while," she continued tenderly. She had to pause to control the catch in her voice but it was heard anyway. "I've been so anxious to see you, Elliot…I've missed you very much."

The shock on Olivia's face when her partner suddenly twisted his face to look out couldn't be hidden but she tried to hide it fast. She kept her hand on his back and rubbed encouragingly with her fingers while watching silently.

The haunting expression in his eyes made Casey die inside. Her time spent working SVU cases had made her quite aware and familiar with that look.

She looked at him warmly, trying to make her expression reassuring and friendly. Nervously, she took a risk and repeated Olivia's former statement.

"_Is_ there something bothering you, Elliot?" she asked gently.

When his face crumbled, she felt a surge of panic like she never had before. Elliot Stabler never made a face like that….never.

Never.

Olivia continued to offer comfort and support with her touch, silently beginning to scratch gently over his neck with one hand. Her other arm had come over to drape around his shoulder and she had pulled herself close to him while Casey had been speaking.

Elliot's head dropped down and he closed his eyes. She saw his partner close her eyes too, her hand squeezing his shoulder lovingly as her face reflected anguish for him.

"I wish….I wish I had never said anything," he said quietly, talking down to his lap. Casey wasn't sure if he was addressing her or Olivia. "I don't want anyone to know what happened. Ever." His eyes came up, pain-filled and miserable, making the attorney speechless. "I don't want this to go to trial."

The silence that ascended the small room felt like suffocation to Olivia, but she knew it was actually just her throat closing.

She was a detective. An _SVU_ detective. She made her _living_ helping people go through the exact same hurdle her partner was right now facing.

Casey was going to expect her to side with her and convince Elliot to testify. She just knew it. Why wouldn't she? To her, this was a case like any other…crime and victim.

Prosecute and convict.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Olivia felt a rush of guilt that took her breath away.

It wasn't fair to typecast the woman that way…Casey Novak was friend. A damn good friend. Just the expression on her face as she looked at Elliot made it obvious how much she hurt for him.

The detective's eyes slammed closed harshly. She was becoming out of control. Her protective instincts had taken over so much of her personality that she was actually questioning the motives of her own friends. Elliot's friends.

People who loved him just like she did.

Fortunately, while her brain had been rapidly firing this explosion of doubts and fears, the attorney's attention hadn't left Elliot. As she forced her mind clear, Olivia suddenly realized that Casey hadn't yet said anything in response.

Her green eyes looked hesitantly at the top of Elliot's bowed head, careful not to stare for too long. She didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. She doubted either one of them would expect it, but Casey actually had come prepared for this exact situation.

She adored Elliot Stabler…he was one of the most genuine human beings she had the privilege to know. Her heart was absolutely broken over what he was experiencing. She was going to make sure she did everything in her power for his best interest.

No matter what.

The silence continued to stretch until finally Casey gathered her nerve and began to speak.

"Elliot," she said softly. "This trial….is centered around a group of men who get off on causing other people pain. Every single event leading up to this point…." Her voice was steadily becoming husky with emotion she was struggling to keep at bay. "…is no one's fault but theirs."

She swallowed.

"Their anger, their rage… _their_ immorality," she went on. "Being directed towards innocent people simply because they choose to do so." She paused and her tone suddenly softened so much that it sounded fragile. "I'm so sorry that you were one of them. No one could control who they picked, Elliot...their goal was simply to destroy lives."

Tears fell gently down Olivia's face and she ducked her head away, careful not to let her partner see. She didn't want to make him upset.

Elliot's head remained down the entire time Casey spoke. He swallowed over and over, struggling to keep the tears swimming in his eyes from coming out.

The attorney's pained voice broke the silence again, quiet and strained. "Elliot, no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to," she said. "But I just want you to understand that telling your story won't make people think of you as a victim."

Even with his head down she could tell his expression was bitter and shamed. Swallowing, she delivered her next words with heartfelt sincerity.

"It will show them that you are a survivor," she said softly. "The difference between you and the others is that you _did_ survive, Elliot. No matter how powerful this group of men tries to be, they can never take that away from you."

Olivia let out a soft breath as Casey finished speaking. She was so surprised and warmed by the words that she could hardly think. Her hand rubbed his neck again and she rested her chin on his back gently to give him comfort.

They were cloaked in silent motionlessness for several seconds. Then a minute. Then two minutes.

Then he slowly lifted his eyes to look at Casey, startling her out of pure reflex.

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The squad room started to thin out as detectives caught new cases or exhausted leads for old ones and decided to call it a day. As Don glanced out of the office window amidst his paperwork to see who was still there, he saw Munch walk to his desk.

His jaw tightening, the captain got up and went to the door.

The man had been gone for at least three hours…since he had been in a meeting when the detective left, he was well aware that it could have been longer. He hadn't called, Fin hadn't had a clue what he was doing, and piles of paperwork had sat never getting finished.

He'd tried being patient. He'd tried. But….he just didn't have the energy anymore.

It was plainly obvious that the John Munch they had known no longer existed. Despite his best efforts, Cragen was out of resources to try and get him back.

A few detectives looked at him nervously as he strode out of the office. He didn't say a word as he went, making his way toward the now half-empty joint desk where John was picking up one file from the small mountain that had slowly accumulated.

"I can't do this anymore." He announced himself quietly, stepping up to the detective's elbow and making John start in surprise. "John…I've tried everything I can to keep things the way they are around here but I can only do so much."

His anger was starting to show as he continued, looking at the back of the detective's head because the man was still not turning to acknowledge him. But just as he opened his mouth to continue, John suddenly swiveled to face him.

His face was splotchy, his eyes red-rimmed. Cragen was so horrified that he couldn't speak.

"Well, that's good to know" he said, his voice deadly calm as he looked the captain in the eye. "Because I feel the same way."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"John," Cragen finally said hesitantly. His anger was suddenly gone and he didn't know what he was feeling. "Where….where did you go?"

The detective swallowed and answered in the same eerie voice.

"To see Elliot."

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It sounded more like a soft murmur than actual words, and to be honest, Casey was too focused on the fact that his expression suddenly made him look like he was going to throw up to decipher what he'd said.

Olivia rubbed his back tenderly. "What, Elliot?" she asked in soft question.

The blonde shook her head to make his face appear more clearly and focus.

Elliot's face was twisted, his body shrinking back reflexively without even being aware of it.

"I-"

His voice shattered and he had to swallow. Casey realized that he was turning his head slightly so that when he spoke, the words went toward his partner rather than towards her. Emotion washed over her once more and she wondered again if he really did feel ashamed to talk to her.

"I…" His words were timid toward Olivia and made her face twist sadly as she hugged him close with one arm, as if they were talking in secret. He was looking toward her lap, eyes seeming unfocused. "I don't know if I want to."

Casey watched Olivia's head come down to rest against his and knew that the other woman was struggling with the urge to tell him she would never make him do it….that all he had to do was say the word and she'd get up on that stand for him…that all he had to do was say the word and she would breathe for him if he wanted her to.

Or maybe that was just her own thoughts bleeding out.

With that one realization, Casey Novak did something that she had sworn vehemently three months ago she would never think of doing. She advised him as a friend instead of as an attorney.

"Elliot," she said quietly, her voice almost shaking. She saw Olivia's eyes shoot towards her from where she still hugged him to her, almost like she had forgotten her there. "I can tell you what we can do."

Trying as hard as she could to ignore the rational part of her brain screaming at her, asking her what the hell she was thinking, she regarded him tenderly and with sympathetic eyes.

"I brought what we need for a testimony," she continued. "Instead of having you just talk about everything..." Her voice was calm and patient. "How about if I go over exactly what I'll need and let you decide what you feel comfortable telling me?"

His fingers were digging tightly into her back as he clung to her and though Olivia was making sure to keep her position reassuringly, she couldn't help looking at the other woman in admiration and surprise. The look on Casey's face told her that she was willing to sacrifice even her responsibility as a lawyer if it would help him find strength.

Her face was calm and reassuring, but inside Casey was hoping like hell she would be able to get what they would need this way.

Olivia heard him swallow and blow out a breath. His expression was pained reluctance and she hugged him even closer for a minute, hoping he could feel how much she admired him.

His eyes floated back over to look at Casey timidly.

"Alright," he finally said quietly.

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She stood nervously outside of the door and took a breath before knocking softly.

"Kat?" she said quietly. There was no response. "May I come in?"

Silence was all that greeted her. Kathy took a risk and closed her hand around the doorknob, slowly turning it. She eased the door open inch by inch enough to see inside and looked toward the bed.

The comforter was rumpled and pillows squished up against the headboard, suggesting that she had been sitting there quite recently. Kathy looked over to the window and saw her daughter, standing and looking out into the night.

Kathleen's position made it impossible not to notice her mother from her peripheral vision but she didn't say a word. Kathy didn't either, instead just coming quietly over toward the bed behind where the girl stood and gently easing herself down on to it.

As the silence continued, Kathy glanced around. Stuffed cats were strewn near both end corners, the love stemming from her daughter's namesake for as long as Kathy could remember, and there was a large blue garment lying in the middle of the bed.

She reached out for it and suddenly felt her heart skip a beat when she recognized the feel of the fabric. It was Elliot's bathrobe.

"I took from Daddy's."

Startled, Kathy turned her head swiftly to see her daughter turned and facing her.

The girl stood hugging her arms tightly across her chest, her blonde hair falling down into her eyes. Her face was puffy and tearstained and looked like a child for the first time in a long time.

Kathy felt her heart break. She let go of the robe and stood up slowly to come hesitantly toward her child.

Kathleen's chest shook as sobs became free again and she shook her head, her face a myriad of unspoken fear and helplessness.

She all but fell into the arms her mother opened toward her and cried into her chest like she was dying.

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She had made sure to give him the option even though she had known instinctively he wouldn't take it, which was why she'd had the oath typed up. Olivia read it carefully even though she pretty much knew what it said without having to, so grateful for Casey's thoughtfulness and decorum that she didn't know how to express it.

Her signature would be scrutinized, verified, questioned….she was sure at some point she may even be subjected to suspicion and have to tell the court her intentions. But it didn't matter….she signed her name without hesitation.

Casey scanned over it, nodding. "Alright," she said, putting it carefully to the side. Elliot's eyes followed her movements. She looked back up to him and smiled reassuringly. "Now Olivia can stay here."

Her eyes went back to the other woman, turning serious. "Your signature signifies that you acknowledge you aren't allowed to speak or in any other way encourage anything Elliot says. Every word must be his alone." She hesitated, double-checking that Olivia knew the seriousness of her obligation. "Any breaking of this conduct will find you in contempt of the court of law."

The detective nodded. "I understand," she promised solemnly.

The attorney looked over at Elliot again questioningly. "You sure you're alright with this?" she checked gently. He nodded without looking at her and her face set tenderly. "Then we can get started."

Casey had moved to sit on the floor behind the coffee table, the briefcase open and lying on the floor beside her. The top of the table had been cleared and was now buried under countless documents.

As she turned and leaned over to reach inside the case again, Olivia placed her hand over his. He immediately opened his in response to curl around her fingers and she squeezed in loving security.

"The first thing I'm going to have you do is listen to the statement you gave at the hospital," Casey said, coming back up into sight with a tape recorder. "We'll listen to the whole thing once and then I'll have to go back to ask you some questions, okay?"

His breath trembled when he exhaled. "Okay."

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Being there to witness the statement had been rough, but Olivia realized that it didn't get easier the more times she heard it. Twice she choked back sobs, having to close her eyes to stay in control.

When the tape ended, Casey quietly leaned over to turn it off. Her face was frozen into a mask of professionalism that Olivia knew was her way of controlling her emotions, but the brightness in her eyes couldn't be denied.

Elliot's head remained down firmly. Periodically throughout listening, she had squeezed his hand in comfort but he didn't respond back. He didn't move for several seconds. Olivia couldn't see his face and her heart was shattered for him, but she just kept her warm grip on his hand and stayed silent.

"Can you listen to it again?" Casey finally asked in quiet tenderness.

His chin trembled and he inhaled several times. He lifted his eyes and the tears pooling in them made her heart ache.

His eyes fell immediately again but he nodded slightly.

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He started to shake.

"And then…" The words were barely a whisper on the recorder. "Then he was inside of me."

Casey stopped the tape, the sound cutting off awkwardly. She looked at him tenderly and then reached gently over for one of the documents.

His hands trembled and he was barely aware of Olivia next to him, rubbing her hand over his palm. Was he choking? Why couldn't he breathe?

"Okay," Casey said softly. "Elliot…" Her expression was soft. "You think you can look at these pictures and tell me who it was?"

He felt his mouth quivering and didn't know how to make it stop. Swallowing, he forced himself to look at the cardstock and study the faces. Unable to make his lips stop shaking, he tried hard to remember.

After a minute, his finger touched the third picture from the left. Casey nodded tenderly and made a quick note that he had indicated John Hughes.

"Alright," she said. "You're doing great, Elliot…is it okay to keep going?"

She had asked him this after each of the two previous times as well, making sure to be certain he was alright.

He didn't remember nodding but he realized he did when Casey turned the recorder back on.

He was feeling dizzy. Part of him wanted desperately to tell Olivia but he was afraid they might get upset. He concentrated on swallowing and breathing, sucking in his tears.

He could do this. He could stay in control. He could.

"How did it feel different?" Captain Cragen's voice asked gently on the tape.

"I…I don't know," he heard himself say in a shaking voice. "It was sh-sharp. They just kept putting it in and taking it back out…" His voice sounded like frail. "It hurt. It hurt so bad."

He clenched his teeth hard, squeezing Olivia's hand tightly without realizing it.

He could stay in control…he could stay in control….

Elliot didn't realize Casey had asked him a question. His expression was haunted. She looked at Olivia worriedly before deciding to say something different.

"Elliot?" she asked timidly. "Do…you remember what they were using?"

His chest shook as he saw it. He choked on a breath, so ashamed he couldn't even see, and lowered his head.

"A…piece of tree branch," he croaked, his eyes overflowing.

He turned toward Olivia, unable to stand it anymore. His sobs made her shake as her arms came around him and he wept in her arms.


	55. Chapter 55

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Casey woke up facedown into a small pillow and discovered it smudged with black marks from her mascara.

She remembered how hard she'd fought to keep composed while on her way home the night before and how angry it had made her when the tears had managed to creep out anyway. Drained and emotionally shattered, she had fallen onto the couch as soon as she had gotten inside, fully clothed and with her makeup still on.

Her neck was making it known that had been a bad mistake. Her groan at moving her head turned into an indignant whimper when she brought her arms out, discovering that she'd rested her weight on her left one while sleeping and it was now heavy and tingling.

Struggling to lift the limb, she forcefully shook it up and down while she turned over onto her back. She felt as if she had slept for twenty minutes when it had really been over seven hours.

As she manipulated her head and wrenched her neck to pop the kinks out, the feeling of cold nervousness seeped back down to the pit of her stomach. The brief reprieve of sleep had done nothing to ease it…actually it seemed to have made it worse.

Eleven hours from now she would be expected to have arrived in Buffalo and be getting prepared for the next morning.

As hard as it had been to sleep last night, she knew that tonight was going to be worse.

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Kathy nodded into the phone, her hand poised to flip over the eggs sizzling in the pan in front of her.

"That sounds good," she said absently, scraping underneath one particular egg that was being stubborn. A crack and louder sizzling sounded a minute later when she successfully turned it over beside the others. "I'll ask them but I can pretty much guarantee they'll all want to come."

She paused as the other woman spoke again, nodding automatically with the words. Her face drooped sadly and she inhaled softly, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I…wish you would have called me," she said quietly, unable to help it. Her focus shifted back immediately when she heard the other woman apologizing and she was quick to dismiss the words. "No, no…I understand, Olivia…I wasn't trying to make you feel bad or…"

She swallowed, forcing the lightness back into her voice. "Absolutely, of course you…right. I do, honestly…yes. Absolutely." She nodded again. "Go ahead and talk to him about it…I'm getting ready to get the kids up anyway, we'll be leaving here in about an hour and a half…"

She waved away Olivia's venture to smooth over the guilt with a smile. "Just give me a call once you guys get back….yeah." Her hand fluidly slid the spatula under three eggs at once and lifted them from the pan. "I'll talk to Maureen, see what she's got going on. We won't get back from church until probably around 12:30 anyway, so there's no rush….I'm sure. Yeah."

Leftover grease sizzled and fizzed on the empty skillet as she lifted the remaining eggs to the plate and turned off the burner. She bit her lip, trying desperately to keep her cool as her nerves began to build even more.

She felt irritated by the other woman's call and had no idea why.

"Okay," she said with false cheeriness. "Sure…I will. Bye."

She switched the off button and let out an almost explosive breath. Turning away from the stove, Kathy leaned her elbows on the counter and dropped her face in her hands, rubbing her fingers through still-damp hair.

Taking a few more breaths, she looked up at the clock. They had an hour and a half before they had to leave for church.

Swallowing, she stood upright again and began walking toward the stairs to make sure her kids were up.

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It had started to drizzle as she pulled out of the apartment complex. After five minutes, Olivia grew tired of flipping the windshield wipers on and off and set the intermittent speed.

Now the only sound audible in the Camry's front seat was the mechanical _whir_ sound of each swipe. Elliot was leaned back against his seat with his head turned away from her, watching the drops of water as they trickled down the outside of his window.

Rather than try to make conversation, she drove in silence toward Doctor Olivet's office.

She knew he was as nervous as she was trying to pretend she wasn't about the next morning. He had stayed lying down on the couch, his head on his pillow and his hand curling the blanket up toward his face, from the moment he woke up until it was time to leave for the doctor. He hadn't even responded when she told him about his family wanting to come over when they got back.

Olivia continued to glance at him periodically out of the corner of her eye, debating on if she should try to say something.

The third time she happened to catch him reaching awkwardly down toward his feet as discreetly as he could. She furrowed her brow but kept her gaze discreet as well when she followed his movement, seeing he obviously was trying not to let her know about it.

His rabbit was lying on the floor near the back of the dashboard. She saw his fingers straining, but with the seatbelt on just couldn't reach far enough to grab hold of the fur.

Biting her lip, Olivia kept a firm grip on the steering wheel and unbuckled hers, leaning over to skim her hand towards the floor by the passenger seat. She grazed the fur with her fingers and managed to get hold enough to pull it towards her.

He looked away as she brought it up, but she still saw the flush cover his face. She placed the rabbit next to his side as nonchalantly as possible and turned back toward the steering wheel.

He didn't say anything, but she saw it when his arm snaked out from by his side to pull the animal into his lap. Her vision became dangerously blurred as she tried to blink back the tears without letting him see them.

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It had been quiet thus far, a little short-staffed but so far nothing to really complain about.

Late morning was dreary and dismal and Fin selfishly wished for any potential rapist or child molester to accidentally fall into a giant, overflowing sewer and not be found until the next day.

He had woken up extraordinarily grouchy for some reason and had caught himself sniping harshly at people he worked with before he actually realized he was doing it. He really wanted nothing more than to finish his paperwork so he could go back home.

Okay…so he had to admit to himself that wasn't entirely true. He _did_ know why he had woken up in a foul mood, but to be quite honest it actually seemed that being around other people was just making it explode.

They all knew what was happening tomorrow morning….were they all just deliberately _trying_ to act like it didn't have an effect on them? Did it make them feel better to pretend like it was just the beginning of another week, another normal pay period, another day to forget old victims and concentrate on new ones?

_Is that what's bothering you?_ The small, nagging voice in the back of his head crept up and butted into his consciousness. _Or are you really jealous because you're wishing you could do the same thing they are?_

Clenching his teeth angrily, Fin tried to clear his head of the thought and let his eyes travel across the desk.

His partner hadn't even come in today.

Granted, they didn't work _every_ Sunday and sometimes one or both of them let their paperwork pile up so badly that they had to come in off the clock to get it done before the next week started…but he had a feeling that there was another reason behind John's absence.

Like wanting to sit inside his house and pout again…he was good at that.

Shaking his head darkly, Fin felt his lips curl in disgust as he looked away from the empty chair.

His muscles seemed to become tenser as each day passed. He just couldn't keep the sick, gnawing feeling out of his gut no matter how hard he tried.

The unit was changed. Even if no one ever had the guts to say it outright, it was becoming impossible to ignore.

They had been without one set of detectives for almost four months. A sergeant from another squad had almost become second-in-command of their unit. His partner and the man he had worked beside for the past seven years suddenly made him feel betrayal and resentment with every thought he had of him. Any mention of Elliot Stabler now sent the word _victim_ flooding into the senses.

Fin felt his heart contract painfully and he closed his eyes in shame.

Maybe the unit hadn't changed.

Maybe it was just him.

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He was extremely tense. She could tell the moment they came into the office.

His body was rigid when Olivia began unzipping his coat and didn't attempt to finish it himself, so she had to remove the garment for him. Elizabeth saw that the rabbit was in his lap instead of by his side like it usually was, and he appeared to be holding tightly to it.

His eyes followed Olivia as she gathered the outer garments he had worn and placed them over her arm. Her expression was pained but she managed to summon a warm smile as she then stood in front of him and prepared to leave the room.

Elizabeth noticed that he seemed more frantic than usual when he reached for her and he clung to her a little longer than he usually did when she stooped to hug him.

"I'll be right outside," she said softly, running her hand down the side of his face lovingly.

The door shut and they were alone. He was avoiding her eyes, almost hunched near the middle of the chair today, and appeared nervous. Doctor Olivet shifted slightly, crossing her legs neatly at the ankles, and smiled warmly.

"Good morning, Elliot," she said.

He gave no response, his attention seemingly fixed on a spot of carpet near his chair.

"How are you today?" she tried again gently.

After another minute of silence, Elizabeth decided she had no choice besides a direct approach. Her voice laced with concern and soft tenderness.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked. "You seem like something is bothering you."

His grip on the stuffed animal remained tight and he swallowed, but then suddenly gave a slight shrug. It was more towards the floor than in reply to her.

She took a quiet breath and hesitated a moment so he wouldn't feel pressured.

"Did your friend Casey come to see you last night?" she asked with deliberate gentleness.

He stiffened noticeably and his fingers were white from his grip on the fur. "Don't want to talk about that," he mumbled softly with his head down.

It took a minute for her to decipher his quiet muttering. Her face softened and she looked at him carefully.

"Why?" she asked warmly. His control over his emotions was precarious. She could clearly see it and made sure to tread carefully. "Did something happen to make you upset, Elliot?"

His face strained and he took a careful breath, avoiding her eyes.

Elizabeth gazed at him tenderly, her voice quietly sympathetic. "It must have been painful to remember everything that happened."

The weak restraint broke and he hung his head, sobbing softly while staring directly down at his lap.

She respectfully averted her gaze for a few moments and waited a few moments before quietly leaning over to pick up her box of tissues. She gathered a handful and extended it toward him delicately.

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She stopped with her hand on the door handle and took a breath before quickly pulling open the heavy wood to dash out of the rain.

The distinct smell of the building hit her senses and made her stop in place.

Musty crannies from a ceiling long since fulfilled its duty of keeping the walls up. Floor polish. A faint trace of bleach. The irremovable sickly-sweet pungency of Formalahyde permanently seeped into the walls.

Exactly the same. Melinda wasn't sure why, but it surprised her just as much as it came as a relief.

Her boots clicked loudly as she walked down the linoleum floor toward the locker room, but she went past the door instead of stopping, continuing toward the office at the end of the hall. She couldn't resist.

Her knuckles tapped the glass lightly before she walked right in with a gleeful smile on her face.

She wasn't disappointed. Ashley's eyes flitted up from over the top of the computer, only to do a double take and light up. The smile she received made her own grow.

"Doctor Warner!" she said jovially, quickly getting out from behind the desk. She pushed her attractive French-braid over her shoulder and grinned. "Good to see you!"

"Thanks," Melinda replied warmly. "Good to see you, too. How have you been?"

"Great," the younger woman replied. "How about you…how's the family?"

She chuckled affectionately. "Kayla's been in seventh heaven because I let her get away with more than her father does," she said wryly. Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

Ashley laughed. "No!" she said in mock surprise. "You?"

"Amazing, right?" she shot back glibly. She shook her head in amusement and cleared her throat. "I'm going to head back and get changed…any new ones today?"

"Ripe and ready for you," Ashley teased sarcastically. "Two DOA's courtesy of Bellevue Emergency from unidentified cause and I think I overheard Angela telling some of the guys that one from yesterday still needs embalming."

"Excellent," Melinda said excitedly, nodding. The squeamish look that passed over the other woman's face made her laugh…Ashley wasn't an avid fan of death and avoided leaving the phone as often as possible. "That's what I'm talking about."

Ashley wrinkled her nose playfully and Melinda winked, squeezing her arm affectionately as she left the office.

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It seemed like the sky had opened up while they were inside. Olivia was surprised enough to stop short as Doctor Olivet was walking with them to the entrance of the building. Buckets of rain pounded the outside and she shivered instinctively, cursing herself for not remembering to grab an umbrella before they had left the apartment.

"Drat," Elizabeth said in dismay, as if directly tuned into her thoughts. "I _knew_ I shouldn't have left the umbrella this morning." She turned toward them. "Do you want to stay here and wait it out?"

Olivia bit her lip and looked down at Elliot, her heart squeezing again when she saw his miserable expression and tear-stained face. He was practically drooping in the wheelchair.

"Thank you," she said. Her hand absently rubbed over his shoulder. "But I think we'll be alright." She looked at her partner again sympathetically. "We didn't park too far…I'll go get the car and bring it up here."

"Sure," the other woman agreed pleasantly, nodding.

She pulled on her coat and zipped it as far as it would go, folding the hood over her head. "I'll be right back," she assured, sending a smile at Elliot.

He looked at the ground. Her lips pursed sadly and she met Elizabeth's sad gaze for a moment before turning to push open the door. The splattering rain echoed loudly on the pavement and she took a deep breath, darting out.

Olivia tried to pull as close to the door as she could but the building had no awning to protect them from the elements. She left the engine running and hopped out, blindly making her way toward the passenger side to open up the door.

Elizabeth pushed him into the doorway and held open the door as Olivia hurried back toward them. Her hood had blown off by then, making her effectively soaked and squinting to see.

"Alright," she said breathlessly, stooping in front of the chair. "You ready?"

Not really expecting a reply, she reached up behind him to pull his hood down and tried to cover as much of his face with the scarf as she could. Then she pulled one of the blankets he had around his legs free, looking up at Doctor Olivet with a smile.

"We'll give you a call later this week," she said, the apology in her eyes hidden from Elliot. "Thanks."

The other woman smiled back. "Sure," she agreed easily. She squeezed Elliot's shoulder and addressed him. "Goodbye, Elliot."

When he said nothing, Olivia sent another smile up at her. She stretched the blanket out and attempted to hold it over his head while maneuvering the chair with one hand toward the car as fast as she could.

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The insistent beating of the rain against the windowsill was muffled and not as annoying as it had been when it first had started.

John sighed from his position, lying motionless on his back on the couch. Maybe he was just too tired to keep up the feeling.

The room was shadowed and quiet, as he hadn't bothered to turn on any lights when the sky darkened the windows, but it brought no peace to his troubled mind. His thoughts hadn't stopped churning since the moment he had called out sick a few hours before.

He knew he was playing with fire, what with having just gotten back the meager bit of a normal work routine and not quite having his captain's trust back yet, but he couldn't help it. He had woken up that morning nauseous and skittish and not even thinking about his professional duties.

He couldn't do this anymore. It was to the point where it was making him physically sick now and he couldn't handle the agony.

Elliot had been subjected to arguably the worst act of inhuman deviance ever to befall a man. His pride, self-worth, and confidence had been completely diminished, his body used as a personal object of sexual sadism by a group of masochistic demons in the form of eight men…and yet he was still brave enough to get up in front of strangers tomorrow and tell them about it.

While John continued to sit here, too afraid to face him, all because he didn't have the balls to deal with the possibility of a negative reception.

Tears rolled down his cheeks for almost a full minute before he even realized they were there. Nearly three months of cowardice and anguish and now it suddenly was hitting him, hard and striking through every nerve.

He reached blindly for the phone.

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His deep sigh made her turn from the TV. She smiled when she saw him shifting towards the back of the couch cushion and turning his face into the fabric.

"Hey…don't fall asleep on me," Olivia teased, nudging his side gently. "They're going to be here any minute."

Elliot grunted, stretching out his body further. His feet were grazing her pants leg where she sat on the other end of the couch.

"I'm not," he mumbled, yawning.

Rolling her eyes with a smile, she shifted her feet closer to her body to give him a few extra inches of room and turned her attention back to the movie currently on cable.

It was more like twenty minutes when the buzzer erupted through the apartment. He jumped violently, causing his head to snap back slightly, and she shook her head in amusement because she knew all along that he had in fact been snoozing.

She walked over to the door and pressed the button. "Kathy?"

"Yep," the woman's sunny voice answered.

"Come on up," Olivia instructed, disengaging the downstairs lock.

Three minutes later the knock came on her door and she opened it with a smile. "Hi, you guys," she said warmly, stepping aside so they could come in

Kathleen crossed through the doorway first with her mother behind her. Dickie and Maureen followed with Elizabeth bringing up the rear.

"Let me take your coats," Olivia said, shutting the door behind them and holding her arms out. Her voice was pleasant and inviting. "Go on in, guys…make yourself at home."

Kathy looked at her with gentle disdain. "You don't have to do that," she said, shaking her head in amusement as she took of her coat. "Where do you want us to put them?"

The other woman smiled, shaking her head as well, but didn't argue. "Um…you can put them in my room, if you want," she answered, pointing down the hall. "You can just throw them on the bed."

Kathy handed her coat to her son and gestured with her eyes for the four of them to do as instructed. Olivia couldn't help but chuckle at the look of miffed obedience that crossed Dickie's face as he headed back with his sisters.

The blonde continued toward the couch with a gentle smile. "Hey," she said softly to him.

Olivia's smile faltered slightly as she stopped in the doorway so that Kathy could feel free to greet Elliot. His body language seemed…off for some reason. It wasn't hugely obvious, but since she'd spent so much time studying it, the subtle stiffness of his posture and the way he appeared nervous sent small twinges of unease into her stomach.

She could tell Kathy noticed it as well, because she hesitated at the side of the couch instead of trying to sit down in the spot near the end.

He looked up at her somewhat hesitantly and swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and reserved.

"Hi," he replied.

It suddenly occurred to Olivia that he may very well be feeling overwhelmed by everything that had been going on the past two days and stressed about the next morning. Even if it was his family, perhaps he just didn't feel up for visitors at this moment.

Her stomach sank with guilt.

_Great detective skills there, dumb ass… ever consider that maybe the reason he didn't really seem responsive this morning when you told him about them coming was because he didn't feel comfortable with the idea?_

"Dad!"

The young voice interrupted her thoughts as his children came back into the room. They appeared so happy to see their father that it twisted Olivia's insides, especially with this sudden insight that had slammed her.

Elizabeth was the closest to him, looking absolutely thrilled, and for some reason it sent alarm bells off in Olivia's head. She bit her lip and hesitantly looked toward Kathy, subtly trying to communicate her anxiety.

"Hi, daddy," she said happily as she quickly approached him.

She came right down beside him and flung her arms around his neck to hug him. Olivia felt her stomach drop.

"Uh…Liz-" she began quickly, already seeing his features becoming distressed.

But it was too late.

The feeling of the pressure against his throat as his daughter inadvertently squeezed herself against him sent his stomach turning and his pulse skyrocketing. Elliot tensed up and gasped deeply, trying to bring his arm up between them to disengage her.

"Please," he attempted to say shakily, but the terror and memories had already shoved themselves in to take over and there was nothing he could do about it.

The smile on Elizabeth's face immediately turned horrified when she heard him gasp and she pulled back quickly to look at him worriedly. Her expression became frightened when she saw his face.

Kathy moved quickly toward her daughter, placing her hands on her shoulders from behind to gently pull her back.

"Liz, sweetie," she said, feeling her heart shattering for both of them. She should have said something the moment she sensed that Elliot was uncomfortable. Her hands guided her with gentle force away from him when saw Olivia coming toward them. "Here, come here, honey."

The other three were standing in silent shock, gaping at the scene in painful horror. Elliot was shaking as he turned away, reaching blindly out and unable to keep from sobbing. Olivia was next to him in an instant and putting her arms protectively around him, her face anguished.

"It's okay," she said quietly, immediately hugging him and rubbing his back when he gasped for air. She leaned her head against his. "It's okay, honey. It's alright."

Kathy was startled and shocked to feel her youngest shaking. Elizabeth had tears running down her face.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Olivia's heart broke for her. Her mother closed her eyes sympathetically and tried to draw her into a hug as she started to explain. "Honey-" she began tenderly.

But Elizabeth quickly moved away from her, gasping with the force of her sobs. Her face was crumbled. Before any of them could come toward her, she flew toward the door and bolted out of the apartment.

Kathy's face became panicked. "Liz!" she cried, turning toward the direction her daughter had gone.

Maureen stepped up slightly, biting her lip. "I'll go talk to her, Mom," she offered quietly.

Kathy swallowed, looking tearfully at the two of them on the couch, and shook her head quickly. "No," she managed to say thickly. "No, I'll do it." Making a quick decision, she glanced at Olivia for another moment and met her eyes painfully. "You outside. Come outside with me, come on." She waved her hand toward them insistently.

She was using her don't-argue-with-me voice and all of them recognized it. Without a word, the kids went toward the door, all of them looking distraught.

Olivia felt absolutely horrible for every one of them and tried to reassure them with her eyes, but not one of them looked toward her as they made a quick exit. Biting her lip sorrowfully, she inhaled and turned her head down again.

Elliot sniffled and sobbed, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean…I didn't mean…" he babbled tearfully, not even able to get out a coherent sentence to explain. He cried harder and sounded devastated. "It just…it felt-it felt like-"

"No…Elliot, it's alright," she said in anguish, shaking her head against him. "It's not your fault, honey. It's not your fault." She closed her eyes again in self-loathing and sighed with anger at herself as she kept rubbing his back. "I should have asked if you felt comfortable. You've got so much on your mind and I should have asked you how you felt…I'm so sorry."

He hiccupped tearfully, trying to pull away and continuing to shake his head insistently. "L-Liz," he whimpered brokenly. "I-I didn't mean to…she-she-" He began gasping for air, wincing breathlessly with the sharp pain in his ribs. "I didn't mean to."

"Oh…" The agony in his voice over what he clearly thought was happening broke Olivia's heart. She stroked his hair. "Honey, Elizabeth isn't mad at you. She's isn't."

Clicking her tongue in quiet sympathy, she ventured carefully and framed his face gently with both of her hands, brushing his cheeks.

"Don't worry," she said tenderly, nodding and looking into his eyes. "Everything is just fine…your daughter loves you, Elliot. She knows you didn't do it on purpose, I promise you."

The sound of the door opening drew her eyes up over the top of his head. Kathy and Elizabeth came back into the apartment quietly. Kathy put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and smiled hesitantly. Elizabeth's eyes were still red, but her face was now dry and she looked calmer.

Olivia smiled back in understanding and gently rocked him, attempting to get him out from against her so he could see them.

"Elliot," she prodded softly when he didn't move.

Elizabeth swallowed and took a step away from her mother. "Dad?" she asked hesitantly, biting her lip.

His head swiveled around fast. He swallowed, letting out a tearful breath that created a lump in Kathy's throat as she watched.

"Liz," he choked.

He didn't even have time to extend his arm all the way out toward her pleadingly before she was striding quickly to him. He wrapped his arm around her back and pressed her into his chest with almost crushing force.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whimpered into her hair. His chest was heaving, making her move with him. "I'm sorry."

Olivia swallowed hard and blinked back tears as she subtly got to her feet so they could have privacy.

Elizabeth nuzzled her cheek into against his chest, inhaling deeply with contentment.

She raised her head and kissed his cheek, her eyes shining lovingly. "Mom warned us to be careful…I was just so happy to see you that I forgot you were hurt." She snuggled against him again. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

Olivia had the sudden impulse to laugh, even though nothing was at all funny…it was either that or sob. Both of them had been terrified that the other was upset at the same time and had no idea.

Elliot's eyes were closed against his daughter's head as he held her against him, breathing deeply and staying silent. He appeared at the moment to be the picture of contentment and it warmed Kathy's heart.

"Mo and Kat drove themselves," she said softly after a moment, finally breaking the silence. A sweet smile was on her face as she took a few steps toward the couch. "I went ahead and told them all to go home…you've got a big day tomorrow and need to get some rest. They want me to tell you that they love you and they promise to be here tomorrow once you're back."

He opened his eyes to look at her and she nodded tenderly in reassurance. His eyes traveled over to Olivia before he inhaled deeply and squeezed his daughter's back again.

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He reached over and picked up the phone, taking the opportunity to shake out his cramped hand.

"Tutuola, Special Victims," he said automatically, tossing the pen down for a moment to relieve the pressure. Silence greeted him for several seconds and he furrowed his brow. "Hello?"

"Fin…" The quiet yet unmistakable voice of his partner instantly made his insides clench defensively. "Fin, it-it's John."

He clenched his teeth.

"What do you want?" he asked, not harshly but definitely less than warmly. His angry bitterness crept into his words like they had a mind of their own. "It must be really important for you to call…seeing as how you've become such a big fan of coming in to work and all-"

"I want to see Elliot."

The other man's soft words were filled with emotion, nearly cracking, and made Fin so surprised that he stopped short in the middle of his rant.

"I want to make this right," he continued, his voice shaking. Fin had never heard it sound like that before. "I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry I've been such a dick. I know you and I will probably never get back our trust, but please…please I can't do this anymore. I need to see him, Fin. I need to see him and I don't know what to do." He sounded on the verge of tears. "Please let me make things right. Please."

Stunned, the detective could only sit still in the chair when his partner was finished. He had to breathe for a moment and let his mind get caught up with what was happening.

On the other end of the line, John closed his eyes and waited, prepared to accept whatever fate Fin doled out to him. He couldn't be a coward anymore.

Several more seconds of silence passed. John swallowed, his heart pounding.

Finally he heard his partner take a breath.

"You're right," Fin said shortly. "You have been a dick, John…an unbelievably big dick." His nostrils flared angrily as he gripped the phone in his hand with a crushing hold. "I'm not sure I_ should_ help you." He went silent again.

John's heart went straight to his stomach and he had to swallow hard. He closed his eyes in utter defeat.

Fin exhaled in resignation and shook his head angrily. "You at your place?" he finally asked roughly.

His eyes opened and he swallowed again, this time to keep the tears of relief at bay.

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The magnetic key made a sharp _click_ once the door was unlocked. She turned the handle to push it open and made her way inside of room 812.

A bellhop followed after her with a rolling cart that held her suitcase, briefcase, laptop, and garment bag. She smiled when he stopped it beside the wall and dug into her purse for a ten-dollar bill.

"Thank you very much," Casey said courteously, handing it to him.

The man smiled and tipped his head in an old-fashioned gesture that tickled her insides. "My pleasure, ma'am," he replied kindly. "Thank you." He walked out of the open door and paused in the hallway. "Enjoy your stay."

She strained to keep the smile on her face until she had closed the door. She flipped both locks in place and then sighed, her expression turning morose and serious in almost milliseconds.

Casey turned around slowly and sighed again, looking at her bags.

"Sorry, buddy," she murmured aloud. She shook her head resignedly. "Don't count too much on that."

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She carefully laid out each of the appropriate tablets next to the water glass and then closed each pill bottle, setting them back in their place on the kitchen counter. She bit her lip and turned her head, craning her neck to see into the living room.

Seeing that he was lying in the same position and not able to see her, Olivia quietly opened up the cupboard next the microwave to remove the small box. She tore the package open with her teeth so as not to make much noise and tried hard to ignore the burning nervousness in her stomach. The side of the box swore that it wouldn't cause any damage when mixed with other medicines but it still made her a little worried.

She dropped the two tablets of Simply Sleep into the water glass before she could lose her nerve and stirred with the straw until they had dissolved.

A few days ago, when Casey had come by again to touch base with them about the hearing, she had suggested that they come up to Buffalo on Sunday night and stay with her at the hotel. Olivia had actually been in favor of the idea. The morning was already going to be stressful enough…having to get him up at early in order for them to drive up there in enough time certainly wouldn't make it easier. He would be able to relax more if they were already close and wouldn't have to rush.

But Elliot wasn't. Olivia didn't really know if it was the idea of another unfamiliar place or that he was just too nervous about the trial, but he was adamant about trying to convince her against it. She hadn't been able to bear making him uncomfortable, even though she knew inside that it would be the easiest choice for all of them, and she had finally managed to reassure Casey that they would be leaving early enough that they would be there on time.

Now she was doing everything possible to try and make sure he had an undisturbed night of sleep. It was eight pm and she had convinced him to get into his pajamas before he settled on the couch, promising that they would watch a movie after she got his medicine.

"Here you go," she said softly, shutting off the kitchen lights and walking back into the living room.

His clear blue eyes looked at her trustingly as he took the pills and drank the water made her stomach clench.

She swallowed, leaning forward unexpectedly to kiss his forehead.

_I'm sorry._

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It was just past four am when she managed to get a very sleepy and unhappy Elliot out to the car. He leaned heavily against her when she lifted him up out of the chair, forcing Olivia into doing the work for him. She was slightly breathless by the time he was finally lowered down safely into the seat.

His head flopped back against the headrest almost instantly and he closed his eyes with a tired sigh, making it clear that he didn't intend to move. She had to lean over him and step partly into the car in order to get his seatbelt latched.

Coming back out, she lifted up the quilt she had taken from her bed off of the wheelchair and leaned inside again. Her hands smoothed it tenderly over his chest and arms with an affectionate smile, the ends trailing down to touch the floor. He shifted slightly further toward the side with another sigh and quickly returned to breathing the even pattern of slumber.

Her hands were frozen by this point. Olivia shut the door and quickly rolled the chair toward the backseat, hastily folding it up. She slid it inside the car and heading around to her side, her breath visible in the frigid morning air.

The heat was switched on as soon as the ignition turned and she reached over to make sure the radio was turned off as she let the car warm up a bit. She rubbed her hands briskly together, looking over beside her.

His features were so soft and vulnerable in his sleep. It hurt her chest to even take a breath as she thought about for the millionth time just how cruelly unfair this whole situation was.

She forced herself to stop thinking when she felt the telltale prick of tears beginning to sting her eyes and inhale deeply to get her focus. She was not a morning person. Today, more than any other day, she had to make sure she stayed alert.

For him.

She shifted the car into reverse and eyed the clock. She estimated maybe ten minutes to pull into a drive-thru somewhere for the large coffee she was desperately in need of and then straight driving to Buffalo.

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The squad room was quiet and, for the moment, empty besides him. There hadn't been any pressing cases yesterday requiring overnight manpower and to his knowledge, no one was upstairs in the crib either.

Cragen actually wasn't technically on the clock for another full hour and didn't have to even be there yet for another thirty minutes. But this was where he felt the closest to his detectives and so it was here he had decided to be.

His office door remained open but he didn't feel like turning on the light for some reason. He just sat in his chair and occasionally turned his gaze out the window. No matter which direction he started in, his eyes always ended up coming back to the pair of desks near the middle and off to the right of his line of sight and settling on the one that faced his office.

Elliot's desk.

It was a little before six. He did a little math in his head…if the hearing was scheduled for nine, he would estimate that they were probably about halfway there now.

He felt the familiar ache squeeze his heart again, just as it had done to keep him awake last night. Pressing his lips together sadly, Don slowly reached for the phone.

He waited a minute until he got the answering machine and took a breath.

"Hi, Olivia," he said quietly. "It's Cragen." He paused a little nervously. "I…was just calling to see how you guys are doing and…and to let you know we're thinking about you." He paused again. "Don't worry about calling back. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. Take care, ok?"

He felt like he wanted to say more. Instead, he just hung up.

He sighed and his gaze floated back up out of the office again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia could tell he was getting nervous, but it took until they started actually passing signs for Buffalo for it to become obvious.

She glanced at the clock when his eyes swept out the window again. They had less than thirty miles to go.

Elliot inhaled through his nose and rested his head back against the seat. He had finally woken up about an hour ago, but had kept the quilt firmly wrapped around him. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His hand was beginning to twist the blanket anxiously and he seemed unaware that he was doing it.

"Hey," she said softly, the first words spoken since they had started out that morning. She looked over at him fully with a tender expression. "Are you thirsty?" She gestured slightly toward the backseat where she had a small cooler on the floor. "I brought some water."

She was hoping he would say yes, hoping something might be able to distract him. Not sure how long they were actually going to be there that day and worried he might get sick, Olivia had brought along several bottles of water and cans of Ensure.

She had them tucked into a small soft-sided cooler about the size of a lunchbox and even gone so far as to pour the protein drinks into a few neon-colored sports bottles she often used when she worked out. No matter how hard he may try to hide it, she knew he still felt self-conscious about having to drink them and wanted to do whatever she could to help him feel better.

He shook his head tensely, not even returning her gaze, and swallowed.

She pursed her lips gently and slowly reached her hand over to the blanket to cover his. She squeezed softly, glancing over at him hesitantly. He didn't say anything but gently turned his hand to link his fingers with hers.

It was more like fifteen minutes when Olivia saw the sign indicating the courthouse was nearby. She recognized the surroundings after a minute from the last time she had been there and was easily able to find her way there again.

Finally, four hours and thirteen minutes after starting out, the car came to a stop in the parking lot of the municipal center. She turned off the ignition and for a minute just sat still to listen to the car cooling off and relax her tense back.

She inhaled deeply and let out her breath steadily. Then she turned toward him.

"Alright," she said quietly. She was still holding his hand. "Are you ready?"

He was staring ahead out of the windshield, his jaw set tightly. He didn't answer her.

She sat still for a minute sympathetically, rubbing her thumb across his hand, and then squeezed briefly. He still said nothing. Swallowing, Olivia slowly removed her hand from his and unbuckled her seatbelt.

She got the wheelchair out first and locked it into position before opening the passenger door. She rolled it slightly to the side to have room and knelt down slightly to be at his eye level. He was continuing to look ahead at the building. She could see the tension in his muscles now.

"Elliot?" she asked gently, placing her hand softly on his knee. "Are you ready to get out?"

He inhaled shakily, his breath starting to tremble. She delicately leaned forward and began moving aside the folds of the quilt to reach his seatbelt latch.

"Wait," he suddenly burst out, reaching out to grip her arm and startling her so badly that she nearly fell forward into the car. She was overwhelmed by the panicked look that had taken over his face. "Where's Rabbit?" He jerked to the side quickly, his head snapping down to look beside him. "Where's my rabbit, Olivia?"

His voice became urgent and serious, so much like what she used to remember that it made her eyes tear and she could only freeze.

"I need it," he continued frantically, continuing to look around. "Where is it?" The growing tearfulness she heard in his voice snapped her out of it. He started to exhale his breath through his nose. "Olivia…I can't find it."

Olivia immediately leaned in next to him and began sweeping the seat with her eyes. She moved aside the quilt, looking underneath, and then down to the floor. Dread settled in her stomach as she moved back to look under his seat.

"I…I don't see it," she said nervously.

She quickly opened the side door to look in the back even though she knew it wasn't there. Biting her lip, she came back beside him.

_Shit._

"Elliot," she said dreadfully. "Honey, I think we left it at home."

The instant horror that flooded his face made her chest burn. She had to swallow to stay composed.

He shook his head frantically, shoving the quilt aside with his hand. "No," he said tearfully. "No..." Salty tears began slipping out, sliding down to touch his lips. "Please find it, Olivia…please find it."

He seemed to sense even before she opened her mouth that there was nothing he could do. It shredded her insides when she saw his broken-hearted expression.

She leaned over sadly to pull him to her in a hug. He let out a sob, unable to hold them anymore, before he even made contact with her body.

"I can't do this," he whispered in agony. She knew he wasn't talking about the rabbit anymore. "I can't. I'm scared, Olivia." He inhaled painfully, his chest searing, and clung to her like she was a life raft. "I'm so scared."

His voice cracked. She blinked but couldn't keep her tears from falling as she hugged him, devastated.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Soft yips and pants greeted her ears when she padded out of the bathroom. She smiled sleepily as she came into the kitchen, crouching down to open the small pen.

"Hi, baby," she said tenderly. Panda scampered toward her, his stubby tail wagging furiously, and she lifted him into her arms. "You need to go potty?"

The Dalmatian puppy responded by plastering her face with wet kisses. Elizabeth carried him out into the sunroom and unlocked the back door, blinking in the morning sunlight. She set him down on the grass and the dog immediately began sniffing around to find a spot.

She let him continue to explore for a few minutes after he had taken care of business and then picked him back up. She set him down inside the house and by the time she had turned to close the door again, Panda had already taken off to explore around inside.

Running her hand through her disheveled hair, Elizabeth walked over to the fireplace and sat down in front of it. She opened the grate to stoke it with a poker and placed her hands out to warm for a few moments.

Something caught her eye to the side and she turned her head. She smiled when she remembered, getting to her feet.

She reached into the rocking chair beside the fireplace to pick up the stuffed rabbit.

It had become soaked when Elliot had dropped it as Olivia was putting him into the car yesterday and she hadn't even seen it until they had driven away. A night beside the fireplace had done a lot, but she could still feel some damp spots. A few minutes with the blow-dryer would solve that without a problem.

Smiling tenderly, she placed it back in the chair again.

"Better get you dry, friend," she murmured sympathetically. "I know someone who is going to be missing you quite a lot."


	56. Chapter 56

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

Tingling fire rippled up her leg when she braced her knee on the floor of the car and she knew it would only take seconds for it to lose feeling in the position. She didn't even give it a thought, instead leaning further inside.

Olivia drew herself up against him and cradled his neck with her hands, dropping her face into his shoulder for a brief moment and feeling him shaking.

"I know, baby," she said, anguish making her voice crack slightly. She blew out a small breath and sucked in her lip at the same time, tenderly pressing her hands around in circles on his back. "I know you are."

Her eyes slid closed with pain for him. She heard him taking tearful breaths and gulping over her shoulder. Overwhelmed with emotion, she quickly tilted her head up to kiss the side of his neck so as to fight the urge to forget this whole thing and take him back to Manhattan that was suddenly making it hard to breathe.

She had to just press her cheek against his for a few moments until she felt confident she could speak normally. "We don't have to go in there right now. We've got some time." She rubbed his back soothingly while trying to make her voice as reassuring as she could. "You want to just stay here and relax for a little bit?"

He swallowed shakily but nodded against her immediately. She smiled tenderly.

"Okay," she said lovingly. She squeezed him tighter for a few moments. "How about we do that?"

She waited patiently and continued rubbing his back until he felt like letting go of her. After a few minutes, he slowly loosened his grip and began moving away. Olivia leaned forward and stretched to reach behind the driver's seat for the small cooler.

She pulled it towards her and unzipped it, probing her hand inside for two water bottles. She put one in the cup holder while she untwisted the cap off of the other.

"Want a sip?" she offered, knowing that it was likely he would change his mind from the last time she'd asked. She held it out towards him.

Elliot let out a breath and extended his hand. He took a shaky gulp, exhaling again before leaning his weight against the seat with the bottle in his hand.

Olivia put both of her feet on the asphalt parking lot so she could sit with her upper half on the floor in front of him. Her hand rested on his leg gently while she took a few sips from her own bottle and tried to keep the atmosphere as calm as possible.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The space was loud and active, as it was every morning around this time when the guards starting taking them three at a time upstairs to the showers, but Evans just rolled over to face the wall of the cell without really hearing any of it.

His thoughts were elsewhere….back to the same place they had went every day.

Every morning. Every afternoon. Every evening.

Every dream.

He wanted to kill that cop named Elliot. Had wanted it since the moment he'd laid eyes on him that day down in the Bronx lockup.

He hadn't even needed to speak for Jason to know how he rolled. Just his appearance was a fucking neon sign. _Look at me. Look at what you'll never be. Look at how much you wish you had what I have._

If there was one thing on this earth that he hated more than anything, it was guys like that. Guys who commanded the attention of a room with just their presence and said whatever the hell they felt like because they knew they could.

"_What's the matter, Jason? Too afraid to admit you've got a thing for guys, you sick piece of crap?"_

Just the memory of that smart-ass voice made him sneer. If it hadn't been for the chains holding him there and the fact that he would most likely receive toilet duty if he opened his mouth, he would have told that asshole exactly what he had been thinking then.

"_I sure do, Detective…especially guys with smart mouths and macho attitudes like yours. I like to break their necks and watch them die. Want to see it up close?" _

Truthfully, he had just wanted to scare the guy a little and then kill him. His idea was to tie him up and blindfold him, and then leave him sitting in some abandoned lot somewhere to see how long it took him to piss himself before coming back and snapping his neck.

Quick and easy. Just the way he liked it…it was less messy that way.

But then EJ had come on the scene and everything had changed. The cops were already on his scent, he'd said. He'd already killed five people…he already had the needle in his arm. And now kidnapping a cop? He'd be lucky if he made it to into handcuffs without one of them popping his head clean off...pigs always took shit like that personally. He had no doubts that this one would be his last hurrah and he wanted to make it one they would never be able to forget.

Jason smiled warmly, unable to help it.

A cop. A New York cop. A New York cop who investigated _sex crimes._ How fucking beautiful was that? EJ was just genius….pure genius.

Evans had been worried at first about what it might do to his image. He wasn't a fucking fag…he liked women and he liked it rough. Most chicks were down with that.

But once EJ managed to convince him to just try it, he was surprised at how much he had enjoyed it. It wasn't even about the orgasm, although he wouldn't lie and say that wasn't a plus. There was just something about having so much damn _control_ that was so irresistible that he once he started he couldn't wait to do it again.

For God's sake, the man had cried like a little bitch. It was _beautiful_. The strong, cavalier, macho cop had screamed and begged like a fucking virgin getting a blow job and it was _him_ who had made him do it.

Goosebumps rose on his arms and he shivered with excitement, feeling himself starting to get hard.

He'd been cheated out of his vengeance, but the experience he'd had instead almost made up for it.

Almost.

The memory of the pain made him wince and just like that the high was gone. His hands curled into angry fists as he remembered the way the teeth had sunk into his penis hard, ripping away his skin and making him yelp.

And then the bastard had smirked. _Smirked. _He'd known what he was doing and had managed for that moment to have the upper hand.

Well, even a moment was too much. That little prick was going to pay. If it was the last thing he ever did, Jason Evans was going to see to it that he got what he deserved.

_They can't keep me in here forever, Elliot Stabler. I meant what I said…I'm going to kill you. _

_You think you've seen the last of me? Just wait, asswipe._

"Evans!"

Scowling, he turned to face the cell bars. The guard unlocked it noisily and gestured with his shoulder rudely.

"Get your filthy ass up," the man snapped harshly. "You're next."

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Blowing through her cheeks, Casey primly switched positions to cross her left leg over her right. She jiggled the navy blue heel insistently on her left foot without even thinking about it while scanning over her notes for the millionth time.

She wasn't nervous. She wasn't. Nope, not her. "Cool" was her middle name. Why should she be nervous? She'd only told Olivia three times on Saturday night that they should be there at least twenty minutes before the hearing was scheduled. And it was only…she checked her watch….8:41. No big deal…she wasn't nervous.

_Ha._

The watch came up toward her face again thirteen seconds later and she didn't even see the numbers. Her palms were starting to sweat.

_Relax. They won't be late. They won't. Olivia knows how important this is._

She swallowed and leaned forward to peer down the hall. Nothing.

_Why are __**you**__ nervous, anyway? Jesus, it's not __**you **__getting up there in front of strangers to talk about being sexually abused and tortured. How the hell do you think poor Elliot feels right now?_

Her cheeks flushed with shame and anguish.

"Hey."

The breathless voice made her head whip up instantly and Olivia seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, pushing her partner down the hall quickly in a wheelchair. She didn't think her expression was revealing, but it must have been because the detective was grimacing apologetically.

"Sorry," she said. "We…ran a little bit late this morning."

The tone of her voice when she explained was peculiar, but Casey didn't even think about it. She waved her hand dismissively but couldn't keep the relief from her voice.

"It's alright," she said easily, smiling.

Her heart squeezed when she let her gaze shift to Elliot. His face was tearstained, not obvious immediately to the casual observer but easily noticeable when someone took the time to look. He wouldn't meet her eyes. Casey gazed at him for a moment and then pursed her lips gently, looking back up at Olivia.

"Was traffic bad?" she asked.

The female detective shook her head as she set the brakes on the chair. "Nah," she said. "Smooth ride." Casey watched her look to her partner, surprised and touched by how tender her voice became suddenly. She gestured to the bench. "You want to sit up here, Elliot?"

He shook his head curtly, his neck rigid and posture tense. Olivia sat down on the opposite side of Casey so that the chair could be between them but didn't speak. She looked at the attorney wearily and Casey saw the exhaustion and turmoil clearly on her face.

For a few moments they all remained silent. Olivia had her head leaned back against the wall tiredly and seemed in no hurry to start conversation. Casey could feel the nervousness coming off of Elliot in thick waves as he stared at the linoleum tile beneath his feet.

Both detectives were dressed in neat, professional attire consistent with what she was used to seeing every day in court, but for some reason it was startling for her to see it. Maybe it stemmed from having spent the evening with them two nights ago preparing for the hearing with all of them in sweats…or not being able to stop thinking about how vulnerable Elliot appeared to look swallowed in a dress shirt that used to fit him well, sling cradling his right arm to his chest, and yellow-purple bruises smattered across his face.

Deep down, though, Casey suspected the reason really had to do with the agonizing pain she couldn't stop feeling in her heart over how familiar the whole thing felt, sitting here with two dressed up detectives who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else while waiting to be called into court, when she knew the reality was anything but.

She looked at her watch again to see it was now ten minutes till. Taking a breath, she forced herself to calm her nerves. The time to be nervous was gone….it was time to focus now. She had no choice. Slowly blowing out the air, she turned slightly so she could face both of them.

"Okay," she said gently. "Elliot, they're going to be calling us in about five minutes to go in."

Her gaze swept over Olivia's and then Elliot's, immediately seeing the panic come into his eyes. Trying to ignore the voice inside reminding her that all of them had been through this sort of thing maybe a million times in her time with SVU, she decided that it would be best if she went ahead with the clean slate mentality just to be safe.

"Once the hearing starts, the judge will probably talk for a minute or two, addressing the jury about their duty and that sort of thing," she continued, trying to make her voice sound as reassuring as she could for him. "Then you'll be called to the stand and sworn in."

She was trying not to concentrate on the way his eyes looked absolutely terrified as he looked at her. Swallowing, she paused for a breath and glanced briefly at Olivia before continuing on to see her listening intently as well.

"I'm going to ask you questions like the ones we went over on Saturday night," she went on, doing her best to sound soothing in hopes it would put him at ease. She smiled gently. "I'll do my best to make the questions as easy and straightforward as possible for you, but if you get confused, let me know and I'll try to help make it easier to understand."

Casey inhaled through her nose and smiled again as she finished.

Elliot swallowed and kept his back pressed against the wheelchair, as if drawing away from her. His expression was guarded and tense, his eyebrows furrowed so far inward that it looked to be uncomfortable.

He was facing Casey but Olivia noticed when his left hand drew back toward her and groped jerkily. She immediately came forward to take it in hers and he gripped her fingers so tightly that she couldn't stop a painful intake of breath.

"How…." His voice was thick and he had to stop to breathe. Casey watched him bring the hand now clutching his partner's up further towards the chair. When he tried again, his words were quiet and dreadful. "How many people are going to be in there?"

Her instincts were right on cue to keep her face relaxed and Casey was thankful for them, because she felt the shock at his question ripple through her stomach. She had to harshly berate herself again for taking for granted the fact that he was a detective.

_He's not going to be thinking about the protocol procedures, you dumb ass. Would you?_

"It's going to be me, the judge, and about 18 jurors," she replied soothingly. His anxiety only seemed to worsen at her words and she desperately tried to alleviate it. She bit her lip and leaned forward slightly with a tender expression, wanting for a brief moment to place her hand on his shoulder but deciding against it. "Don't even worry about any of the other people, Elliot… pretend like it's just you and me. Just like we did at the apartment, okay?"

Olivia felt simultaneous appreciation and anguish for her, seeing how much the other woman was trying to make him feel comfortable while trying to hide how painful it was for her inside.

His grip suddenly got even tighter, drawing her out of the thoughts, and she saw Elliot inching towards the side of the chair nearest her.

"Can Olivia come in, too?" he asked in a choked voice.

Her heart ached and she had to blink back tears. Casey's face drew up for a moment but she relaxed it quickly.

She sucked on her lip gently. "I'm afraid she's not allowed," she answered softly. His face began to twitch and she almost stumbled over her words in panic. "But she can wait right here until you're finished."

The sound of a door loudly squeaking as it opened intruded suddenly and a deep voice rang out into the hall. Casey turned her head as a large black man wearing a deputy's uniform stepped out from courtroom number six.

"All parties concerning case number 102343," he announced. "State of New York vs. Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas and Jeffrey Pendleton."

She turned back toward them and was horrified to see Elliot's face twisting like he was scared to death. His breathing quickened and he suddenly was ripping his hand from Olivia's to wrench his fingers up around her arm.

"I…I don't want to," he whispered, losing sound in his voice. He inched closer to the side of the chair nearest his partner and turned his head toward her. His fingers dug pleadingly into her skin. "I think I changed my mind…I-I don't think I want to do this anymore."

Casey's expression turned pained immediately but she didn't know what to say as she looked helplessly to the other woman. But Olivia was reacting almost instantly, not even noticing the look as she quickly got up from the bench to come around the front of the wheelchair.

She crouched down to be at his eye level and knelt with one knee on the floor, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek tenderly. Her other hand came into his and through his fingers gently, rubbing across his palm. The sheer panic she saw through his eyes about undid her composure but she fought hard and forced herself to endure her steadily shattering heart.

"It's going to be all right," she said, her voice sympathetic and gentle. Her face was straining to hold back emotion but her eyes were shining as she squeezed his hand. "Just keep your focus on Casey…you don't have to talk to anybody but her. I'm going to be right here the whole time." She pursed her lips and stroked his cheek. "I'll see you as soon as you're done. I promise."

Casey had to swallow several times to dislodge the lump in her throat as she witnessed the exchange. She could sense the deputy looking at her now and turned toward him quickly. She held up her hand pleadingly without speaking, hoping he would get the message.

Olivia inhaled through her nose and smiled tenderly. "I know you're scared," she continued lovingly, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. "So I'm going to need you to be really brave for me now, okay? Can you do that?"

His face twisted and she saw him blinking back tears. He stared at her in agony before closing his eyes and tipping his head down toward the ground.

Olivia came forward almost simultaneously to gently hug him. A few tears managed to escape, sliding hot down her cheeks, but she made sure to position her face against the side of his head so he wouldn't see.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She blew a breath out through her cheeks and took her fingers from the keyboard. Scooting the chair back from the desk, Kathy rolled her neck and dropped her head into her hands roughly.

Her hands pressed into her forehead with almost brutal force, but she kept it up, taking perverse pleasure in the feeling of pressure that was making her see spots. She had the worst headache that she thought she had ever had in her life.

It had come out of nowhere and completely blindsided her before almost making her incapacitated. She had come in that morning feeling fine and then at around nine a sharp pain had suddenly embedded itself in the back of her skull, proceeding its way slowly over the rest of her entire head. It had become so bad at one point that she had actually gotten sick to her stomach and had to take her eyes away from the computer screen fast before she got dizzy.

She hoped it wasn't her body's way of letting her know that her eyes were starting to go bad. Most of the people on her side of the family had eagle eyes up until about their mid-forties and then suddenly had nature turn on them by making them need big, horrid reading glasses that made them appear old.

She would be 41 this year and prayed like hell that it wouldn't happen to her. Kathy Stabler wasn't a vain woman, but there was no way she was going to deny not wanting to see how she might look in a pair of granny-looking glasses….she rather enjoyed the appearance of her blue eyes. She was often told they were her best feature.

Obviously, trying to crush her bones with her hand wasn't doing anything for her headache. She groaned and let up the pressure, leaning her head back and allowing her eyes to close.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The abrupt noise as the heavy wooden doors of the courtroom were opened made Olivia jump out of her unintentional doze. She started and jerked away from where her head had been resting against the wall.

"Thank you," she heard Casey's voice say quietly as she was attempting to clear her vision. The deputy was holding the door open as she pushed Elliot through. He nodded, smiling courteously as they passed.

Wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders, Olivia stood up and immediately looked at her watch. She was barely able to stop herself from gasping out loud when she discovered it was quarter past one. It seemed like it had only been half an hour since they had arrived.

_Good God. I must have really fallen asleep._

Her face flushed crimson instantly, the thought making her cringe. Images of professional businessmen in tailored suits and prestigious court officials came into her head, walking past and seeing her slouched in the bench, face smashed up against the wall as she snored in oblivion and drooled onto her hair as it matted around her cheeks.

But she sobered in a moment when she saw the strained composure on Casey's face. Olivia found she couldn't speak when she was met with the other woman's green eyes. One glance into them told more than any words ever could about her state of mind but it still shocked her so much to see the tears glistening in them that she almost lost her breath.

Casey immediately let go of the chair once they were together and stepped up slightly so that she could stand beside it. Her expression was a mixture of sympathy and sadness. She said something, but Olivia was too focused on her partner to register what the words were.

It was disconcerting to her, the way he appeared to have given up on even holding his head up straight. It was twisted to the side at an almost unnatural angle so that his cheek barely rested against his shoulder, making him able to direct his gaze away from both women. His limp posture screamed of weariness and though his eyes were open, she could see the heaviness of each blink.

"The judge gave us a short recess," Casey continued rather somberly. Her hand came up to touch her forehead tiredly. "I have to be back in there in about ten minutes."

Olivia snapped her attention back up to the attorney to see her looking back with pain in her features. Casey swallowed and took a quiet breath, laying her hand across Elliot's shoulder lightly.

"But you're done," she said, no doubt trying to sound reassuring even though they all knew she shouldn't have attempted it. She bit her lip slightly, looking hesitant, before going ahead with her thought. "You were fantastic, Elliot. You did absolutely wonderful in there." She swallowed. "Thank you so much."

After a minute, it became obvious he wasn't going to say anything. He didn't even turn his head. Olivia looked at him in concern again, feeling an involuntary pressure starting to trickle into her belly.

Casey pursed her lips sympathetically and raised her eyes back to her again.

"They'll deliberate shortly after we get back in," she said. She glanced back to Elliot once more but was clearly speaking to Olivia. "It's going to take a while…you guys can certainly stay if you want, but I'm going to have to leave as soon as we adjourn because I have a meeting…" Her tone was uncertain and apologetic.

Olivia nodded quickly to let her know not to worry. It was extremely obvious to both of them that she intended to get him home as soon as possible.

"It's alright," she said with a painful attempt of a smile. "We'll probably just head back, if you don't mind." She tried to make him not feel guilty by immediately poking at herself. "I don't know about you guys, but I feel like I could use about a month of sleep right now."

Casey's nod was immediate and understanding. "No, that's fine," she said, almost sounding relieved. "I'll give you a call when I find out what's going to happen."

"Thanks, Casey," she replied.

When the other woman nodded back, Olivia noticed that she too had to struggle with trying to smile.

They heard the deputy call to her as Olivia turned to gather their coats. Casey looked at her sympathetically and asked if she do anything to help before going back in.

"That's alright," she answered lightly. From somewhere deep down inside she managed to summon another small smile and laid a hand on the other woman's arm. "You go ahead. We'll be fine."

With a reluctant nod, Casey backed away. She offered Elliot a warm smile and repeated her words of praise before telling them both goodbye, her heels clicking as she walked back into the courtroom.

Olivia inhaled wearily and relaxed her face, forcing an expression of calm as she crouched down slightly with his coat. She hesitated in front of him for a moment, unsure of what he would do right then and preparing in case a hug or comfort was what he wanted.

He seemed to read her mind. Startling her with the abrupt change in his demeanor, Elliot suddenly turned to face her and spoke in a quiet and surprisingly calm voice.

"Don't."

One word, so minute, yet it made what was left of her control crumble dangerously. Just as quickly as he had spoken, he went silent again and turned his head into the same position.

If she thought about it too long she might begin to doubt it had even happened at all.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The cafeteria offered baked potatoes that day, one of her favorites, but she found herself moving on autopilot once the foil-wrapped entrée was placed onto the Styrofoam tray. Her stomach had been growling since 11:30 and had felt ready to start consuming itself the period before the lunch bell rang, but now that the food was before her the thought of eating it made Kathleen feel nauseous.

She blankly picked up a plastic fork and napkin from the dispenser and retrieved a can of Sunny Delight without really feeling the cold metal in her hand as she made her way toward the cashier. Somehow the money ended up out of her pocket and back into her palm as the change was counted out but she couldn't remember the woman saying how much it was.

The crowded cafeteria was loud and boisterous as always, with teenagers enjoying the brief respite from teachers and hunger pangs while catching up about the first half of their day. Kathleen began walking robotically past tables without paying much attention to anything around her.

Across the cafeteria, Melanie Jordan watched her friend exit the line and moved her purse from where she had it resting on the chair next to her to save the place. Her brow furrowed quizzically when Kathleen appeared to be making her way straight out of the room instead of turning to head toward their usual table.

Something was off. She could tell. Her friend's face seemed expressionless, even when going past the table near the back where the football players and their friends always made an uproar as they egged on arm-wrestling matches and the tables seemingly scattered all around where random groups of boys seemed to make a contest every day out of seeing who could make the most obnoxious _ping-ping-ping_ noise by flicking their fingers against the bottom of the Styrofoam trays.

She got to her feet and began making her way toward her.

"Kat?"

The voice beside her may as well have come from a bullhorn, because Kathleen was so startled that she jumped hard enough to make the potato bounce on the tray. She suddenly became aware that Melanie was standing there and looking at her in concern.

"You alright?" she asked carefully.

She shook her head quickly, suddenly startled to realize that she had somehow ended up in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Hmm?" she asked distractedly, rubbing her face. "Oh…yeah, yeah." She felt like she was underwater. Her own voice was echoing in her head. "I'm good."

"Are you coming?" Melanie gestured back toward the table. "I saved your seat."

Kathleen squinted at her, as if seeing her for the first time, and swallowed. "Oh," she said again, dumbly. She swallowed. "Uh…no. Sorry...I have to go the library." She paused. "Have to finish that history paper."

Her friend immediately grimaced in understanding. "That sucks," she said sympathetically. "I still have to finish mine, too."

Kathleen nodded, trying to look interested even though she was itching to get away. "So….see you in class then?"

Melanie nodded, much to her relief. "Sure," she said, shrugging as if it really didn't matter to her. She turned back to walk to the table.

Blowing out a breath, Kathleen continued walking toward the entrance to the cafeteria. She heard the heavy _thump_ as the unopened can of juice and potato fell into the trash can near the wall but the motion was so automatic that she didn't even feel them leave her hands.

The ruckus from the cafeteria gradually faded as she got further away and she paused upon reaching where the hallway widened. On her right was the library. Going to the left would lead to the guidance office.

She reached into her pocket to finger the crumpled slip of paper still there from early that morning in homeroom. It had been delivered during the morning announcements from a student aide, the thin slip requesting that she report to the guidance office as soon as she could.

She knew what would be awaiting her...her eyes rolled again instinctively just at the thought. Ms. Karen Culpeper, the school-assigned guidance counselor for all students with the last name starting with S and ending with Z.

A woman who dressed more like a secretary than a counselor, looked old enough to be her grandmother, and seemed to speak ever word she had ever learned in a calm, soothing voice that bordered on irritating. A woman Kathleen had never met or even desired to meet during her four years at Westmoreland and yet had unexpectedly pulled her from class one afternoon last December before the holiday break wanting to know how she was doing with her "situation".

She had been trying since the break ended to avoid the woman and Ms. Culpeper just kept trying to meet with her. Couldn't she take a _hint?_

_What do you want this time? Want me to describe to you what it was like seeing my father break down crying in front of me and my siblings this weekend like a child afraid of the dark? Maybe try and convince me again to let you arrange a meeting with a "support group of my fellow peers" so we can all share our sob stories and become empowered by the magnificence of the human capability of communication? _

Scoffing angrily, Kathleen turned on her heel and opened the door to the library. She flopped down on the first available couch and leaned her cheek in her hand to watch the clock until lunch ended.

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She couldn't help but wonder sardonically when they finally arrived back at her apartment complex if Casey hadn't jinxed them somehow with her comment about the traffic that morning. It had taken them over two hours once they crossed into the city to make it into downtown Manhattan, the majority of the time spent at a complete stop and bumper-to-bumper on the expressway.

She'd thought the ride _up _there had been tense…the atmosphere in the front seat of her car as they drove back home was so suffocating that she had almost wanted to roll down the window just to let some frigid air blast over her. Elliot didn't utter a single sound from the time they left the courthouse and the only sign of him even acknowledging her presence came from the occasional negative head shake whenever she asked if he was thirsty or wanted anything. He had turned toward the window and gone into a restless sleep their second hour into the drive and Olivia honestly wondered if he did so just to avoid having her speak to him.

He was awake now but it was more than obvious in how he was still turned away that he wasn't in the mood to talk. Rather than say anything, Olivia just shut the car off and got out to come to his side. She was honestly just too tired to do anything but give him what he wanted right now.

The silence continued when they got inside. She helped him out of his coat and onto the couch, where he settled against the pillow while she went to the closet to put their garments away.

She came back to him and for some reason, surprising even her, she found herself just standing silently before the couch. The feelings inside of her were weird and made her almost nervous…it was like her eyes wantedto cry but her chest was an empty cavity that felt like nothing.

Elliot looked at her and she looked back. Their gazes locked for what felt like forever, but in reality she knew it was maybe half a minute.

Then he blinked once, twice, and his blue eyes shifted away from her brown ones to stare at the floor.

"I'm tired," he said quietly.

She was still staring at him and felt herself spacing out, the feeling like when she looked at a jumbled up painting promising to reveal a hidden picture but just ended up making her lose her focus and have to make her eyes pay attention to her surroundings. She didn't even know why.

She nodded. "So am I," she replied, equally as flatly.

There was more awkward silence before he finally shifted to lie flat, pulling the blanket over himself. He leaned back into the pillow with a soft sigh that was more drained than sleepy.

"You want me to stay out here?" she offered quietly, horrified when she realized that the words came out sounding more out of obligation than caring. She somehow knew he would refuse even before he shook his head but found herself still feeling oddly empty and just accepting it without comment. "I think I might go lie down for a little while, too…let me know if you need me, okay?"

He nodded vaguely. Her feet carried her into the bedroom and to the bed, where she curled up on top of the comforter without pulling it back. Her eyes were wide open and she wasn't the least bit sleepy anymore.

She didn't know what to name what she was feeling right now.

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The sun was just beginning to set by the time she made it out into the cold air. She hunched her shoulders instinctively and shoved her hands into her pockets while making her way down the stairs toward the parking lot.

She had pretty much assumed that the jury would vote in favor of the trial after the third hour had passed waiting for them to return. Any deliberation taking that long was almost a guarantee.

Casey slid her briefcase over into the passenger seat and shut the car door, starting the ignition quickly to turn on the heat.

She felt conflicted over her loyalties now. On the one hand, if the jury had ended up _not _deeming the evidence fit for trial, the unimaginable guilt from making Elliot go through the ordeal of telling his story and having nothing come of it would have destroyed her. But on the other hand, thinking about what it was going to do to Elliot when the events of what happened became public to his colleagues and people he knew made her feel sick. With Dwight Haskins in the limelight and the high-profile nature of the case itself, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of the trial being kept low-key for the best interest of the victim.

Casey shook her head angrily as she slipped her foot over the clutch to shift the car into reverse. For the hundredth-millionth time that day, she wondered just what the hell she was even doing agreeing to let one of those scumbags make a deal with her.

She pulled her cell phone out as she drove out of the parking lot and flipped on the car's headlights. She might as well go ahead and let Olivia know now. She had a feeling once she left the holding center her attitude wasn't going to be very pleasant.

After six rings, the answering machine picked up. She exhaled as she listened to the automated greeting and waited for the beep.

"Olivia," she said softly. "It's Casey…"

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Kathy looked up from putting away the last of the leftovers when she heard Elizabeth's footsteps coming into the kitchen. She knew something was bugging her. She had watched her youngest daughter push the food around her plate all through dinner, trying to make it seem like she had eaten more than she actually had.

Kathleen had retreated upstairs after helping clear the table and Dickie was in the den watching television, so she took a chance and waited until her daughter finished putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher to be cleaned.

"How was school today, honey?" she asked curiously, her lips twitching into an inviting smile as she watched Elizabeth shut the dishwasher door and set the dial.

The girl shrugged lazily. "Fine," she said flatly.

She nodded. "Everything alright?" she finally asked.

Her daughter shook her head with the fakest smile Kathy had ever seen. "Sure," she said, turning to walk back out. "Do you need me to-?"

"Elizabeth."

The firm yet careful voice combined with the use of her full name from her mother stopped her. Biting her lip, she slowly turned back around to see Kathy's face reflecting loving concern. She had to swallow hard.

"Sweetheart, talk to me," her mother said, her tone now tender and inviting like it always was. "What's bothering you? You can tell me."

The shaky, seemingly defeated sigh she heard in response told her that her daughter had been struggling internally for a while. It broke her heart to realize that she had been completely clueless about it.

Elizabeth walked back toward her mother slowly, shaking her head.

"I was just hoping…" Her voice caught involuntarily, making Kathy's heart ache. "I wanted to see Daddy again tonight." Her eyes closed. "Before…before it was bad enough, having to wait until the weekend to spend time with him." Her voice was soft. "But now…not being able to see where he is…it just really makes me scared. I don't want anyone to take him away from us again."

Her words had become almost inaudible by the time she was finished as the shame of what she had just admitted made it hard to breathe. She looked everywhere but at her mother.

Kathy was so shocked and pained by the words that her mind went completely blank.

"Liz-" Her words choked and she had to start over. She was trying desperately to make something meaningful actually come out but still couldn't quite make her brain cooperate past the unexpected agony. "Sweetie…I know you want to be with him. I know you all want to be with him. It's so unfair to him and to you that this whole thing even had to happen." As much as she wanted to comfort her daughter, her emotions and heartache couldn't seem to get past that one thing that still silently killed her every single day. "God…it's so unfair."

A sob came out and she could do nothing but duck her head in attempt to hide it from her daughter.

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She placed her purse and briefcase on the table and stepped back, spreading her arms to allow the guard access with the metal detector. The man waved the wand over her upper body and down each leg and then straightened again with a curt nod.

The second guard examining the contents of her purse spoke in an almost monotone manner, barely even looking up at her. He was holding up a clear plastic tub.

"Place all keys, electronics, pins, nail files and/or jewelry inside this container," he said.

Casey obediently retrieved her cell phone and car keys from the pile on the table and placed them inside. She reached up to unclasp the thin gold chain with the small diamond heart she wore around her neck and deposited the rings from her right ring and left index fingers.

"Do you have any sharp objects or weapons in your possession?" the man continued flatly, sounding almost like a robotic imitation of a human being as he produced a clipboard before her. She shook her head and he indicated with a pen several blank lines. "Sign here, initial here, date here..."

She did so and he handed over a clear plastic visitor's badge, which she clipped onto the front of her jacket.

"Place the visitor's pass face up in front of the scanner to access the door," the guard said. The loud buzz of the door leading to the hallway inside made Casey jump involuntarily. "Room 12, third on your right.""

She quickly tried to play off her reaction, striding intently through. She made her way past several small rooms on both sides of the hall, each with a slate next to it presenting the number in bold white.

7. 8. 9. 10. 11.

12.

She turned toward it and then stopped, taking a minute to get herself composed. She had to push all thoughts of outside matters from her mind and remind herself just who she was dealing with again. It worked. Her mouth set into a firm line and she swallowed, straightening her shoulders as she pulled the badge off and aimed it at the electronic scanner positioned next to the doorknob.

A sharp _beep_ sounded after a minute and she placed her hand on the doorknob instinctively, startled when she pushed it and nothing happened. She pushed harder. Still nothing. She could feel herself starting to get flustered.

Without warning, the door opened from the other side and she jumped, pulling her hand back quickly. A uniformed guard appeared from inside as he held the door open. She nodded toward him professionally, thankful that her brain was taking over to keep her conducted because inside she was blushing sheepishly.

_Note to self... doors are usually helpful to keep enrollees __**in**__ and other people __**out.**__ That's the whole point of a detention center._She berated herself harshly, barely able to keep from rolling her eyes at herself. _Dumbass. _

"Casey."

The cool voice of Dwight Haskins greeted her before she even saw him. She was too preoccupied watching the guard close the door again and listening to the echoing _click_ that sent a shiver down her spine for an unknown reason.

Turning her attention back, Casey walked toward the long table before her. The side nearest her was empty. On the opposite side, next to the wall, the defense attorney sat in one chair with the man she had come to talk to sitting next to him in the other one. His feet were shackled and the chair bolted to the floor, but his hands and arms were free.

That startled her for a moment but then she thought again. There was an armed guard standing next to the door, not ten feet from them, and had his weapon clearly visible on his belt. But even without that, she could tell just by looking that this man wasn't as much of a threat as the others. The fact that Haskins appeared entirely comfort as he sat by his side strengthened the belief.

She took the opportunity while seating herself to study him silently. There was no denying the man was young, and though obviously having some strength, he actually appeared more meek than anything else right now. It almost reminded her of a kid waiting for a lecture.

_Appearances don't mean shit…he's as guilty as all the rest of them._

Just remembering some of the things she remembered Elliot saying during the testimony that morning made her fists clench and her eyes narrow. She let the man watch as she openly looked him over while idly replying to Haskins.

"Dwight," she said without feeling. She raised an eyebrow coldly before turning her gaze fully to the other attorney and launching in without so much as a warning. "Have you explained to your client what's going to happen here?"

"He knows," Haskins said easily. His tone made her instantly suspicious. "He's serious about this, Casey."

She arched her eyebrow again and looked back to the young man. "You do realize that I'm not obligated to give you anything here, don't you? This isn't a negotiation…you get what I offer. It's your choice whether or not to agree, but you jerk me around and you're done."

Her voice was hard. "You're looking at aggravated sexual abuse in the first degree and sodomy in the first degree-both class B violent felonies. They carry a minimum of 5 years each, but because of your prior minimum security time the minimum number of years automatically goes up to 8. We've also got you as an accessory to abduction and assault, which by themselves can carry anywhere from 1 to 5 years minimum."

She paused to be sure she had his attention.

"So right now," she went on. "Assuming the judge grants you the bare _minimum, _you'll be sentenced to at least the 25 years." She wet her lips slightly. "That's also not including what we have on you for possession of stolen property and use of illegal substances, which have the potential for five years each."

"What possession?" Jesse sputtered suddenly, his head coming up fast. If either Casey or Haskins was surprised by it, they didn't show it. "The hell-? That's bull shit! I never had anything illegal!"

Casey folded her arms calmly and looked at him steadfastly. Her eyes were piercing into his.

"A police search of the house where you and the others were arrested came up with half a pound of marijuana and a quarter bag of heroin on the premises," she said coldly. "We don't know who was using and who wasn't, and since no one wants to talk, we'll be charging all of you."

She saw the disbelief in the young man's eyes and paused to let it sink in before continuing.

"And apparently," she went on, her voice becoming dry, "you seem to have forgotten about the $1200 in stolen cash that was found inside the duffle bag you had with you when you were arrested for the attempted B and E in Suffolk County."

A frustrated explosion of air passed through his lips but he grimaced and hung his head angrily.

"So," Casey continued, drumming her nails across the wooden tabletop. "Like I said….you can choose to take what I'm offering or you can wait to see how you fare with a jury." She leaned slightly towards him, her voice lowering with disdain. "With a list like yours….I highly doubt that they'll be inclined to do you any favors."

Jesse swallowed and when he met her eyes again, Casey instantly could see the fear. The seriousness of his situation was finally beginning to sink in. She could see Haskins looking at her hatefully out of the corner of her eye, but he knew as well as she did that every word she had said was true and that there was nothing he could say.

Madison exhaled through his nose nervously and turned hesitantly toward the other man. She watched them hold a half-second conversation without words and Haskins gave a short nod before they both turned back toward her.

"What are you offering?" Dwight said in a resigned voice.

She shifted position easily in the seat, her expression nonchalant and comfortable as if the whole situation was petty. She could tell it pissed off Haskins, which delighted her even more into continuing.

"Fifteen years for aggravated assault and sexual abuse," she said. "Five of which will be served as suspended sentence, meaning no jail time. I'll drop the possession charges and recommend the minimum sentence for your acting as an accessory." She looked the young man in the eye. "In exchange, you'll testify against the other members of the group and how each one was involved."

Jesse looked at Haskins again. The attorney looked less than pleased, but he wasn't an idiot. He gestured that he thought his client should agree but wasn't going to force it. Madison bit his lip and turned back toward Casey.

"Will I have to be in the courtroom with them when I do it?" he asked dreadfully.

"The trials will be split up over three days and each will be trying two and three at a time," she replied. "If you testify, you will be at each one." Seeing the nervous look come over his face, she hastened to add, "We'll arrange for police protection for you during and after the trial and also until the sentencing hearing."

The young man's expression was a cross between anxious and furious but he gave no outward signs of temper, not even the slightest clenching of his hands. He pursed his lips and spared her an icy stare before turning toward his attorney.

"I'll do it," he said sullenly.

He shook his head and stared down at the table. Haskins' face was slack with defeat, but he looked at her and stuck out his hand.

"Deal," he said.

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She jerked awake suddenly, her face muffled in the pillow she was clutching in her hands. The loud beep echoed again and Olivia blinked in disorientation as she tried to figure out what was going on.

It took a few seconds for the thick fog of sleep to subside enough so that her brain could begin to function again and make her realize that she had fallen asleep on top of her comforter. Groaning, she propped herself up on one elbow and squinted toward the clock radio.

A moment later she was shooting up like someone had shot at her.

_Holy shit...__**7:42**_

Christ, she had been asleep for the last two and a half hours. Groaning again, she rolled over onto her back and ran her hands over her face. She felt like she had been run over by a truck.

Another sudden beep startled her and she sat up stiffly. She was surprised to see the light blinking on the answering machine. She leaned over to press the button.

"Olivia, it's Casey." Shit. When did she call? How did she not hear the phone ring? "The jury's decision was unanimous." She could tell just by her voice immediately what the next words were and slammed her eyes shut painfully. "Elliot's testimony was enough to warrant formal hearings to try the defendants. The first one is scheduled for Friday morning at 9." She heard her friend's voice become softer. "I'll give you a call when I get back to the hotel later today."

Her eyes popped suddenly and her legs banged clumsily against the side of the bed.

_Oh, shit…Elliot!_

"_Fuck_," she swore hastily as she looked at her watch, like she didn't trust the clock beside her.

She scrambled to push away the blankets so that she could get to her feet as quickly as she could. He was supposed to have gotten his medicine an hour and a half ago, and should have had some Ensure between then and now too. God **damn** it! How could she be so reckless?

Realization set in as she was striding down the hall and she almost lost her breath. Jesus Christ…how could she have actually left him alone after what he had been through that morning? Could she **be** any more cold and heartless?

Tears flooded her eyes as she made it into the living room.

He was sprawled on his side facing her when she got into the living room, his body shaking with each painful sob that heaved out. It made her die inside.

"Elliot," she murmured brokenly, almost afraid to come near him. She was such a horrible person. "Oh, baby."

His breath caught loudly when he heard her approach and he tried to stifle his cries. The blood red of his eyes shot through her heart as she saw him attempting to hide his face from her.

She made her way slowly to the couch and dropped to her knees, moving her hand carefully around to his back. He was gulping and trying to conceal each heartbreaking sob as he buried his face in his pillow.

"I'm sorry," she breathed tearfully. She could hardly speak. "Elliot…I'm so sorry, sweetheart." She rubbed his back tenderly. "You don't have to hide from me. I promise you don't ever have to hide from me."

She swallowed painfully, pressing her face against his and breathing against his temple. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I was so selfish…please forgive me. Please forgive me." Her face contorted as she tried to keep from sobbing and she pressed her hand tighter against his back to draw herself against him. "I love you so much, Elliot…so, so much."

She stayed in her position, forcing herself to endure his withdrawal because she knew she deserved it. But it didn't stop the pain from crushing her from the inside out as she wondered if she had just done irreparable damage to his trust that was so fragile.

As his silence stretched out and his body remained stiff, Olivia's heart became shattered.

And then suddenly a moment later she found herself with a chest full of weight when he moved his upper body to bury his face against her. His breaths were hot and wet against her skin.

She brought her other arm up to envelope his back and hugged him tightly, pressing warm kisses against the top of his head. Her tears came crashing out but the relief was so overwhelming that she didn't even care.


	57. Chapter 57

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

A muffled pop came unexpectedly from his right shoulder as he reached for the ringing phone. He scowled bitterly, wondering just when in the hell his body had started imitating bubble wrap every time he moved after sitting still and where in the hell he had been when it came time to vote on it.

"Cragen," he answered, stretching slightly back into the chair for a brief minute. He rolled his neck and grimaced when he heard more of the same crackling.

"Captain." The voice was even and seemed quietly authoritative. "This is Commissioner Giest."

_Shit_. He sat upright so quickly that the chair rocked on its axis and nearly sent him spiraling backwards. Don cleared his throat quickly, hoping that he didn't sound like he had been distracted.

"Commissioner," he greeted cordially. "What can I do for you?"

The man launched into explaining the reason for his call and after a minute Cragen felt his stomach clench.

_Shit. Shit. _

_Shit._

"Ah, yes, sir," he said quickly, swallowing. One eye squeezed shut balefully when the chief barreled on almost before he could finish. "No, sir….yes, sir. I'll get right on it, sir." The man's next words made him swallow weakly again. "Yes, sir, of course. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Don hung up the phone softly and exhaled, stunned.

He sucked in his lips and looked at the clock, wondering if they would be awake yet. He reached slowly for the phone once more but then changed his mind. It might be better to give them all some time to prepare for this.

Himself especially.

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No matter how many different attempts they made at amusing themselves, none of the men occupying the holding center of the Erie County Correctional Facility could deny that each day seemed to stretch out into years of mind-crushing boredom. Though none of them had been there very long, maybe three weeks at the most for some, the atmosphere and restlessness ensured that the slightest sign of something different from the every day routine was noticed immediately.

So it didn't come as much of a surprise that the arrival of four heavily-armed officers wearing different colors than the ones they saw every day on the guards had all fifty-four of the others gawking shamelessly as if it was some kind of spectator event.. Some were even pressing themselves up against the iron bars in order to have a full view as the officers approached the guards.

Madison hung back, trying to appear inconspicuous even though his stomach was turning somersaults. He had a feeling he knew who these guys were…his attorney had said to expect them sometime this morning.

He knew deep down that it was probably irrational to be so paranoid. Both Haskins and the lady lawyer had assured him yesterday that that the circumstances surrounding his newfound protection detail would be kept confidential from all of the other prisoners and that no one from their little group would be made aware of the deal.

But still.

For the moment, everyone else was too busy ogling and hurling out obnoxious, crude comments toward the newcomers to notice that he wasn't participating. The guards and officers were exchanging words amongst themselves in such a way that no one could possibly eavesdrop, but when they turned and began walking toward his cell he felt his heart start to race.

_So much for going unnoticed. _

Eyes inside the cells were following every move as the officers stepped aside slightly and a guard approached.

"Madison!" he barked. "Front and center, now."

_Fuck. _

The guards never, _ever_ addressed them by anything other than their cell number and occupant letter.

He felt his palms starting to become wet.

Oh, yeah….this was _definitely_ going to raise some suspicions.

He swallowed, tried to breathe normally, and did his best to avoid looking up as he did as he was told. But as the guard unlocked the cell door, Jesse tempted fate and glanced up even though his gut was telling him it was a bad idea.

It _would_ have to be EJ in his line of sight…the look he witnessed the other man give him made him almost light-headed. His mouth became so dry that he couldn't even gather any spit. He was vaguely aware of a hand holding onto his elbow to steer him out because dread was suddenly shooting through his body like signal flares.

_You dumb fuck…you dumb fuck! They already want your head for talking to the cops…that's why you're fucking __**separated,**__ for God's sake…they'll be able to figure out what's going on without even trying! Shit, shit, __**shit!**_

He didn't resist as the four officers surrounded him to lead him toward the door because he was too busy trying not to puke all over his occupant-issued shoes.

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She offered him an old issue of _Sports Illustrated_ that she found on the table near where they sat, but Elliot just left it sitting in his lap without bothering to open it. Olivia pursed her lips sympathetically and rubbed his lower arm for a minute as she picked up a copy of _Glamour. _

He sat rigidly up against the back of the wheelchair and was using up all of his concentration just to keep his breathing pattern normal so that Olivia wouldn't be concerned.

He didn't like having to keep going to see these doctors. It was bad enough that pretty much everything below his naval was still so sore that he could hardly sleep at night …he really didn't need to be reminded of just how disgusting he was now with the constant questions and checking of his injuries every two weeks.

Sitting in this waiting room really didn't help, either. It seemed like everyone and their brothers had decided to come to the physician's office that day and the small room was extremely crowded. He really didn't know what was worse…the stares he was getting from some of the people around them or the fact that his heart was starting to race because of a large man that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere to occupy the chair next to Olivia.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

It wasn't working. God, he could feel it….oh, Christ….he could feel the warm bile starting to climb up the back of his throat. He clenched his fingers tight, trying to keep them from shaking, and desperately closed his eyes.

"_So, Olivia's apartment makes you feel safe." _

He didn't know why Doctor Olivet's voice was suddenly conjuring in his head…but he liked her voice. Her voice wasn't a mean voice. Swallowing, Elliot forced himself to keep remembering it without even realizing that it was already calming him down a little.

"_Is there anything else that makes you feel safe?"_

He replayed his own voice without thinking about it.

"_My rabbit."_

His eyes popped open. As quickly as his heart had started to calm down, it started right back up again.

_Except it doesn't work. _He felt tears beginning to sting his eyes and tried not to panic so that they wouldn't fall. _I'm not in Olivia's apartment…and I haven't been able to find my rabbit for two days and I don't know why._

He couldn't understand. He couldn't understand why the image of that man next to Olivia leaping up toward him wouldn't stop coming into his mind and he couldn't understand why he was suddenly too ashamed and scared to say anything to her even though he seriously felt like he was two seconds away dying.

He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the sound of his breaths inside his head.

_In...out. In…out._

He swallowed.

_One Mississippi…_

_Two Mississippi…_

_Three…_

"Elliot Stabler?"

The unexpected female voice made his eyes shoot open. A young woman wearing light purple scrubs was standing in an open doorway on the other side of the room, holding a clipboard.

He felt movement next to him and looked to his side. Olivia was putting her magazine on the table and getting to her feet. She was smiling at him as she gently took the one still in his lap that he had forgotten was there and put it beside hers. Then they were moving across the room and toward the smiling brown-haired young woman looking back at them.

But for some reason, he couldn't see anything but hazy white spots.

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"Here we go, ma'am."

A friendly male voice by her elbow startled her out of focus and she whipped her head up to see a young man balancing a tray heavy-laden with plates of food with one hand. Flushing, Casey hastily shoved aside papers and files to clear a space.

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly.

The young man just smiled. "Not a problem," he said pleasantly as he lowered the plate down in front of her and straightened. He gestured to her half-empty water glass. "Would you like more water?"

Surprised, she looked over near the middle of the table where she had set her glass to see it was sweating heavily and that the ice cubes had melted into almost microscopic proportions.

"Oh," she said, slightly flustered. "Uh, yes…yes, please. Thank you."

The waiter nodded. "I'll be right back with that," he said with another smile. "Enjoy."

Her stomach rumbled in immediate anticipation. Pushing files further away, Casey eagerly lifted up one half of the club sandwich and sank her teeth in quickly, taking a bite and licking her lips.

"May I join you?"

The unnervingly familiar voice came from behind her and made her lips curl instinctively. She scoffed in disbelief, looking up as he crossed beside the table towards the empty chair across from her.

"Would it make a difference if I said no?" she said bitterly as Haskins lowered himself into the seat as comfortably as if he had been invited anyway. She pursed her lips in contempt and looked at him sarcastically. "Didn't think so."

The waiter appeared again with her glass of water. Noticing the new face, he looked at him inquiringly. "Can I bring you a menu, sir?"

Seeing the smile cross the other man's lips, Casey quickly looked to the waiter. "No, he's not stay-" she began to say quickly

"Iced tea, with lemon," Haskins interjected smoothly. He glanced at her plate for a brief moment. "And...whatever she's having." He smiled brightly at the other man. "Thank you."

She looked at him in exasperation as the waiter nodded and walked away. "What do you want, Haskins?" she asked in annoyance.

"I just wanted to make sure everything is still on track," he said. The hint of amusement in his voice combined with that smug smirk made her want to throw something at him. "And that you're still meeting with us today." His tone suggested that he assumed she would be intimidated by the idea.

Casey looked at him angrily. "I said I'd be there, didn't I?" she said dryly. She raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "Assuming I'm able to finish lunch, of course." Her tone made it more than clear that his company was not welcome.

Haskins nodded with another one of those nerve-grating grins. "Of course," he said with charming graciousness that she could tell was done to mock her. He slid the chair back and stood up smoothly. "I'll just get this to go." He nodded at her. "See you at two o'clock, Counselor."

He was gone as quickly as he had arrived. Casey scowled and inhaled, clenching her teeth. She considered the sandwich for a moment before pushing the plate bitterly away.

She had successfully just lost her appetite.

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She slurped up the last bit of iced tea through the plastic straw and glanced down at the passenger seat again hesitantly. The MapQuest printout she had prepared last night said that her next move should be to get off towards the left and take exit 51W to Buffalo.

Melinda looked back up at the road again and replaced the cup in the holder near the console. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she spotted the green sign.

"Aha," she said aloud, a relieved smile gracing her face.

She turned on her blinker and began slowing to take the ramp. The sudden lifting of pressure from her shoulders was noticeable and she shook them out as she turned. She was extremely glad to see a sign that she was not in fact hopelessly lost.

Not that she didn't trust MapQuest, but it was still unnerving for her to have to drive miles upon miles away from her comfort zone for almost a quarter of an entire day and only have a piece of paper telling her what moves to make. Despite what she had told Mike, the thought of having to read one of those gigantic fold-out maps the size of her windshield made her terrified….she was never a Girl Scout and sense of direction had never been a strong point.

She heard her cell phone ringing suddenly and automatically reached for it without looking. It would be Mike. He had called her five times since she had left that morning, always wanting to know exactly how far along she was and if she was still doing alright. She played with him, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down she still was in awe over how good it felt to know that he cared about her so much.

"Hey."

The voice that greeted her was not her husband and she was momentarily startled. She had to think fast in order not to sound like it.

"Casey," Melinda replied. "Hi."

"How far away are you?" the attorney asked.

"I just got off at the Buffalo exit," she said, looking over at her printout again. "So I'd say about a half-hour or so."

"Alright," the other woman said. "Well, look, I'm down at the Correctional Facility right now doing some meetings…I'm not going to be out of here for at least another hour, if I'm lucky." Her tone was slightly bitter. "I left you a key at the front desk so whenever you get in feel free to just go on up, room 342."

"Sure," Melinda said. "Thanks….. thanks for doing this, Casey. Really. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

She could hear the smile in Casey's voice when she replied. "Don't mention it."

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She couldn't keep the radiant smile from her face. "Oh, man," she breathed happily. "That _is_ great news…yeah, I know, believe me…." Kathy raised an eyebrow wryly. "I tried a sip of it once. Those things definitely aren't a treat."

She paused as Olivia spoke some more and nodded her head.

"Sure," she agreed. "Yeah, that'll be fine…I know the kids will want to-" The slamming of the front door sounded suddenly and she knew Liz and Dickie were home. "6:30 sound good? Okay…see you then. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned away from the counter in time to see Elizabeth come into the kitchen. Her hair was up in a pretty twist and she wore a black skirt and heels instead of her usual jeans.

"Hi," her daughter greeted as she set her backpack on a kitchen table.

Kathy smiled brightly. "Hi, baby," she replied, walking over towards her. She hugged her daughter and kissed the top of her head lightly. "You look nice." The surprise couldn't be masked in her voice. Liz was most definitely the tomboy of her sisters…she hardly ever dressed up to go to school. "Special occasion?"

Elizabeth shrugged negatively, shaking her head. "Nah," she said. "Just felt like it." She turned away to go to the cabinet, reaching up for a glass. "What are you making for dinner tonight?"

"Spaghetti," she replied with a smile. "Something quick…so that we can head over to Olivia's as soon as we're done."

Her hand froze on the glass as she was preparing to take it from the shelf. She looked at her mother uncertainly, the smile already formed. "Really?"

The happiness in her daughter's voice made Kathy warm inside. She nodded tenderly, knowing how important this was to the child in front of her.

"Really," she confirmed. "Your Dad's been looking forward to it all afternoon."

She was unprepared for the sudden squeal that came from her daughter's mouth and made her sound like she was ten years old. Elizabeth's eyes were bright and her smile stretched her face as she hurried out of the room to tell her brother the news.

"Hey-" A thought occurred to her and she began to speak only to find Elizabeth already dashing up the stairs. She couldn't help but laugh before shouting out towards the hallway. "Do me a favor and one of you call Maureen!"

She shook her head with a chuckle.

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Elizabeth looked at the clock as she finished writing out a log for a young girl that was in the process of becoming one of her clients and saw that it was just past five. She put the pen to her teeth for a moment as she debated her next move.

The proper thing to do would be to call Olivia to make sure it would be alright if she stopped by for a moment…but the thought of surprising Elliot really was tugging at her too. She could only imagine how happy it would make him.

The phone broke into her thoughts, ringing loudly and making her cringe inwardly.

_Did I turn the volume up on this thing or something?_

Grimacing, she reached for it quickly. "Yes?" she asked pleasantly.

"Doctor Olivet," greeted the voice of one of the receptionist's outside the office. "A mother of one of your patients is on the line...we tried to get her to tell us who she was but she's hysterical. She just says that you're seeing her son and that she has to talk to you right now."

"I'll take it," Elizabeth said immediately, concern and professionalism taking over instinctively. "Thank you."

A button on the phone flashed a moment later and she pressed it to activate the open line. She put on her most encouraging tone as she prepared to speak directly to the caller in question.

"This is Doctor Elizabeth Olivet," she said. "How may I help you?" The shrill, tearful woman's voice that answered indeed fit her classification of "hysterical". She was unable to break through for several seconds and couldn't understand a word of what was being said. "Ma'am, I need you to take a deep breath…take a deep breath and just try to calm down. I'm having a hard time understanding you….I'm going to need you to tell me your name."

Once the words became clear she recognized the name immediately and knew the woman's son was one of her long-time patients. Her heart immediately began to tighten. The boy had been under severe emotional disturbance since she had first met him over two years ago and still battling fiercely. A call like this couldn't be good.

"Okay," she said, trying to remain in control. "Alright…Mrs. Lewis-"

The woman cut her off again with more frantic words that made her gut clench and she closed her eyes for a moment in shock. She tried as best she could to get through the panicked mother's rush as she got to her feet, stretching the phone cord as she reached for a pen.

"Mrs. Lewis, just tell me what hospital," she said quickly. She quickly scribbled it down as it was relayed to her. "No…no, you did the right thing by calling….I'm going to come down there right now. Yes, I-" She bit her lip again as she was interrupted once more. "Mrs. Lewis…I promise, yes. Yes….I'm on my way. Yes. You're welcome."

All other thoughts left her mind. Elizabeth unlocked the drawer where she kept her purse and rushed toward the coat tree to get her parka and scarf, hurriedly switching off the lights. She had enough sense to lock the office door before striding quickly towards the elevator.

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"Alright, gang," Kathy finally said with reluctance, walking in from the kitchen. Olivia followed a few steps later. "I hate to ruin your night….but it's getting late and I know at least three of you who have school in the morning."

She smiled as she finished speaking, seeing her children all scattered around the couch with their father in the middle of a card game. It actually was only about quarter to nine and they could have stayed at least another hour. Olivia had made it quite clear that they were welcome for as long as they liked.

But both women could also see that Elliot looked about two yawns shy of falling asleep on his hand of cards and was trying hard not to let it show in front of his kids. Olivia knew that if they let him, her partner would try to stay awake all night if it meant that his kids could stay. But his medicine always won and with an hour and a half having passed since he had gotten his last dose of the night, they knew he didn't stand a fighting chance.

Dickie was the first one to turn his head and open his mouth to protest, but it surprised Olivia to see him visually hesitate as he looked at Kathy before stopping from speaking. She glanced towards the other woman discreetly to try and see her expression but her position made it too hard.

Whatever the look she was giving, it obviously was one her children knew not to argue with. She watched them look at each other and then Elliot before gently laying their cards down on the coffee table.

He was so tired. He watched in desperation and unhappiness as his children began to stand up but was to the point where it was starting to take an effort just to blink and didn't have the energy to voice his objection. But the look on his face was so painful for them all to see that hearing words behind it would probably have made it worse anyway.

"You know, I just remembered," Maureen suddenly said. "I have a test tomorrow morning...I better get back so I can finish studying a little before bed."

She was nodding toward her father determinedly but Kathy instantly recognized the voice her daughter always used when she was trying to convince them to believe a fib. Had Elliot not been half-asleep, she was almost certain he would have seen through it as well as she did.

A burst of warmth, admiration, and love flooded her body as she studied the side profile of her eldest child. Maureen had made up the lie just to make positive that her father wouldn't feel like they were leaving on his account.

Elliot held out his arm and struggled forward on the couch, reaching for the closest child he could get. Kathleen took the opportunity quickly to lower down next to him on the cushion and engulf herself in his embrace.

The feeling of warm wetness seeping into her shoulder made Kathleen instantly panic.

_He's crying. Oh, God…he's crying._

She swallowed hard as her own tears immediately built in response and hugged him tighter across the back, relishing the warmth of his hold that she missed so dearly.

"I love you, Dad," she whispered tearfully.

"I love you so much, baby," he whimpered in reply. The lump in her throat grew larger and she again had to struggle to keep it down. His squeeze across her backbone was suddenly painful, but she forced herself not to move. "I love you so much…so much."

Kathy and Olivia both watched in anguish as each one of his four children received long hugs. Maureen was last and she whispered something as she hugged him that they couldn't hear. She lingered for as long as she could before finally forcing herself away and to her feet.

He looked at his kids with red eyes and a pitiful expression for a long moment. His gaze turned slowly toward his ex-wife and she was slightly shocked to see the same look in his eyes that he'd had when he looked at the children.

"Are you going to come back?" he asked in a cracked voice. His face was desperate and heartbroken as he looked at her with eyes that had never seemed so innocent. "You're coming back, right?"

Kathy felt her heart slowly crumble as for a split second she found herself wondering if he was talking about the kids…or about her.

Pushing the thought aside fast, she put a tender smile on her face and walked to the couch as well. Olivia happened to look at the kids and saw a look of shock momentarily cross their expressions when they saw their father pull their mother next to him for a warm hug like theirs.

Kathy hugged him and tried to keep the tears from her voice as she realized how wonderful and terrifying it felt to have his arms around her like this for the first time in….she didn't know.

"I'm going to bring them back tomorrow," she whispered. "We're going to come right back tomorrow. I promise you." Her voice was wavering and pained. "I'm so sorry you've been apart, Elliot…I promise I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure you guys are together as often as possible."

She pulled back and sniffled, kissing his cheek hesitantly.

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"Yep…ready? One…two…"

Casey came out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair dry with a towel, in time to hear a loud _smack_ as Melinda made an exaggerated kissing sound into the cell phone. She stifled a giggle.

The black woman was sitting on the other bed, facing away from her. She could hear the smile in her voice clearly even without seeing her expression.

"Yep, I got it," Melinda confirmed tenderly. "How about you?"

"I got it, Mommy," Kayla replied. "Did you put it in your pocket?"

Melinda feigned catching a kiss in the air as if her child was right there with her, swooping her hand down towards her pajama pants.

"Sure did," she said, smiling. "Sweet dreams, baby. I love you."

Casey sat down on her bed and began combing out her wet hair, trying not to listen while the other woman spoke to her husband but unable to help it. After a minute, Melinda said goodnight to him as well and then she heard the phone beep as she turned it off.

The black woman sighed and flopped down sideways on the comforter. Her hair now smooth and free of tangles, Casey stood up and walked toward her suitcase by the wall, crouching down to search for her cell phone charger.

"I feel like I'm at a sleepover," she heard suddenly from behind her.

The blonde turned to face the beds and saw Melinda now sitting up Indian-style in the middle of her mattress. It was ironic…she'd actually had that same thought cross her mind as she was getting ready for her shower. It had been years since she'd shared a room with another female. She grinned.

"I know what you mean," she said. "All we need is some junk food and a cheesy horror flick and we'd be all set-"

She barely had her sentence finished before Melinda was leaning over towards the floor. When she came back up, she was holding up a box of Ho-Ho's that she had buried in her duffle bag.

Casey burst out laughing.

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Olivia smiled as each of the kids passed her to go into the hallway. "Night, you guys," she said warmly, resting her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder briefly. "See you later.

She watched them down the hall and then shut the door, bolting it securely before turning to walk back towards the living room. Elliot was leaning against the back of the couch in the middle of a huge yawn. She smiled.

"Want to get ready for bed?" she asked.

He was so tired that he didn't even try to fake it, just nodding sleepily against the cushion. Ten minutes later, after helping him get into his pajamas and getting him a glass of water, he was flopping down into his pillow with a tired sigh as she pulled the warm blanket up over his chest.

She couldn't keep the affectionate smile from her face as she was kneeling down on the floor near his head. His eyelids were so droopy that he could hardly keep his focus on her.

Automatically taking his hand with one of hers, she used her other one to lean up slightly against the couch and began stroking over his forehead lightly. He inhaled and sighed tiredly. His hand curled around hers securely and he relaxed, his eyes continuing to swim sleepily with every touch of her fingers across his face.

Accustomed to the routine, Olivia remained quiet and waited for him to drop off to sleep. But just before his eyelids could surrender to gravity he surprised her by suddenly gripping her hand tighter. She could hardly understand the mumbled sounds that began coming from his mouth.

"Mmm…Liv…"

It came out in an almost wispy, questioning tone. His mouth was beginning to go slack and yet he was still trying to speak. Brows furrowed in concern, she leaned closer.

"What, baby?" she whispered soothingly, her voice soft in an effort to persuade him it was alright to let sleep take over.

His exhale made it obvious he was halfway unaware of reality but he struggled to get the rest out, his grip on her hand weak with fatigue. "Thanks…mmm kids," he mumbled. He was fighting not to close his eyes now.

Olivia took a moment to consider if he had said what she was thinking he had. Smiling tenderly, she decided to go ahead with the idea.

"Oh, honey," she whispered lovingly. Her hand stretched up into his hair as she looked down at him warmly. "You don't have to thank me for that….they're always welcome here. Anytime."

His eyes closed as she stroked over his forehead again and she leaned in to kiss his nose lightly. "Go to sleep, Elliot," she encouraged tenderly, seeing him still fighting to open them again. "I'll see you in the morning."

He gave up then, fading into welcome sleep. Olivia gently took his hand from hers and laid it down beneath the blanket, then got to her feet and strode to the kitchen.

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_He could hear his own breathing, echoing around him in quick, panicked spurts. It was so dark that he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face._

"_El?"_

_Her voice rang around him suddenly and he snapped his head toward the sound. "Kath?" Groping around in hopes of touching her, he called to her once more. "Kathy where are you? I can't see you!"_

_A figure suddenly leaped out in front of him with a violent growl, with eyes glowing and teeth bared. He screamed and tried to turn around only to slam into a wall. _

"_Elliot!" _

"_Olivia!" He screamed out desperately when he heard her voice in the darkness as well. "Where are you? Where are you?" _

_Another figure appeared next to him, this one laughing in ghastly ear-splitting howls. He whimpered in fear and tried to run back the way he had come but slammed into another wall._

_He began turning around and around, trying to escape the monsters around each side of his body but slamming into walls every time he moved away. _

"_Olivia!" he cried hysterically into the air. "Kathy!" The figure on his right side roared and he screamed, beginning to cry with fright. "I can't find you…please let me see you, please!"_

"_Elliot!" Olivia called again in the darkness. "Elliot, come here! Here I am, come here!"_

"_Elliot!" Kathy's voice mixed with hers. "Come to me, baby, I'm right here!"_

_The monsters roared and growled next to him, stretching mangled claws out towards him. He screamed their names over and over but no one answered this time. _

Then he was staring up at blurred white, his mouth wide and throat dry. He burst into tears as he looked around and began wedging shaking fingers between the couch cushions in hopes of hitting the softness of plush he wanted so desperately. Sobs were making it hard to see straight as he pulled his hand out after finding nothing, immediately moving on to push aside the pillow to look underneath of it. Still nothing.

Then a light was on, casting brutally into his eyes that were accustomed to darkness. Elliot squeezed them shut painfully through his tears and squinted as Olivia dropped down quickly on the couch next to him.

"Elliot," she said, sounding breathless. "What's the matter?"

She wrapped her arm around him to pull him close, massaging his left shoulder in attempt to soothe him. Her face revealed worry and her hair was still dripping. She had been in the bathroom drying off after her shower when she'd heard him shriek from the living room like something was killing him.

He looked just as exhausted as he had a little while ago when falling asleep and petrified at the same time. He turned as soon as she touched him to hide his face in the crook of her arm, sobbing hard. She immediately brought her other arm over to envelope him in an awkward sideways hug and pulled herself against him, pressing her nose against his head tenderly

"Hey," she whispered sadly against his temple as she warmly kissed the flesh. She moved her hand from his shoulder to lightly stroke over his head. "Hey, sweetheart…" Her face puckered with anguish for him and it reflected in her broken voice. "It's okay, baby. Everything's alright."

She held him and nuzzled his face in despair while listening to him continue to cry painfully.

"What's the matter, honey?" she murmured after a minute, rubbing his back. "Can you tell me?"

He shook his head against her and kept his face tightly hidden. She could feel his fingers digging into her flesh as he clutched her back. He began whimpering something tearfully and she had to crane her neck down close to him to try and make it out.

"..want Rabbit," he was whispering brokenly. "Don't know where he is." He sobbed again, sounding devastated. "I want him."

Her heart shattered and she had to swallow when tears threatened to overflow. She had almost completely forgotten that it had been missing. She remembered vaguely that he had asked her that morning before leaving for the doctor where it was.

Closing her eyes in despair, Olivia inhaled and rocked him with her face gently pressed against his head. "Oh, Elliot. I'm so sorry." She blew out the breath through her nose sadly as she rubbed his back. "I'm sorry. I promise you, first thing in the morning I'm going to find him for you. I'll turn this place upside down until I find out where that rabbit has disappeared to." She pursed her lips in sympathy and kissed his temple again. "I promise."

He sniffled and she felt wetness against her arm when she was able to momentarily see his face come into view. Olivia stroked lightly over his forehead with her fingers and gazed at him tenderly but a minute later he was right back nestling firmly into her again.

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She cleared her throat and glanced at her notepad.

"Doctor Warner," she began with a confident voice. "Please tell the court your role in the proceedings today."

Shifting weight as she sat Indian-style on the bed across from her, Melinda responded in the same manner of confidence. "I performed the Physical Evidence Recovery Examination on Detective Elliot Stabler."

"When and where did this take place?" Casey asked.

The black woman tugged compulsively at one of the grey socks covering her feet when she noticed it starting to slide down. "December 18, 2006," she answered, trying not to make it sound like a recitation. "At Mercy General Hospital in Buffalo, New York."

Casey nodded. "And how did it become your duty, Doctor?"

"I was asked by Captain Don Cragen to perform the procedure," she replied, "because I have worked closely with the squad for several years and he thought it might be easier on Detective Stabler if it was done by someone familiar."

The blonde nodded again, making a slight open-palmed gesture towards her. "Please explain the procedure for the court."

Melinda paused to take a deep breath and made sure her voice was steady. "Samples of blood, hair from the head and genitals, and skin from under the nails were taken," she began. "Along with swabs of the mouth and face. A Luma-light was used to scan the body for excretory and seminal fluids and I took photographs of every visible injury."

Casey nodded. "People present Exhibits A through H," she said in a theatrical voice. She paused then and looked at the other woman, lowering her voice back to normal. "Um…I think here what I'll do is wait for them all to be set up together so the jury can see the whole thing and then I'll ask you about each one individually." She looked at her, considering. "Want me to practice that or are you okay?"

"That's okay," Melinda replied easily. "I don't think I'll have a have a hard time explaining them."

"Okay," she said. "Then from there I'll have you explain specific results of the rape kit that you found and the implications of what they mean."

She trailed off, not wanting to insult the other woman's intelligence but checking to see if she understood what she meant. Melinda nodded.

"Cross-examination should be pretty straight-forward," she continued. "I'd imagine it will only be long enough to maybe have you elaborate your opinion on certain areas of the results…there isn't too much the defense can challenge the evidence about."

"So we'll pretty much just repeat the same thing for each trial?" Melinda asked.

"Maybe not verbatim," Casey said, nodding. "But the basic structure, yes." She bit her lip a minute. "As of right now, the defense has the liberty to decide who goes when. I got the judge to agree on ensuring Evans and Jones are tried together, and Madison will be testifying at each of the hearings…..but aside from that I won't know who's being tried until we get in the courtroom. I'm going to be trying my best to phrase my questions so that you won't need to worry about identifying the defendants during court, but I can't guarantee that Haskins won't ask you to give names so just make sure to pay attention to who's there."

Melinda nodded her agreement and Casey blew out a breath, letting the notepad drop into her lap. She ran her hands up through her hair.

The room became quiet as both women remained sitting on opposite beds but let silence fall between them. The heavy drapes were still drawn tight against the room's only window from the night before but the morning sunlight was powerful enough to explode around the edges and cast cheery shadows on the walls.

"Do you feel like getting breakfast?"

The silence was broken quietly after a few minutes, Casey's voice flat and without energy even though the day was practically just beginning. Melinda glimpsed over at the bed a few feet away from hers and felt the effort it took to move her eyes.

"Not really."

The reply was just as quiet and drained. By the time the attorney looked over, Melinda's eyes were falling back tiredly to focus on her hands.

Casey blew out a quiet breath through her nose.

"Me, neither," she said heavily.

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_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap._

The pen bounced along the wooden desk between his fingers, flying along in excited twitches.

Fin glanced up from his keyboard in annoyance. John appeared to be staring off into space as he worked the ballpoint pen across the desktop repeatedly, looking to be in deep thought.

He debated saying something, but after a minute the pen went still. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the keys.

_Tap-tap. Tappity-tappity-tap._

"Dude."

The exasperated outburst from across the desk startled him back to reality. John jumped slightly and his eyes jerked over to where his partner was glowering at him. Fin curled his lips into a sarcastic scowl when he saw the blank expression on John's face.

"You mind?" he said dryly, gesturing in annoyance towards the offending object and sending John a heated stare. "You're making me nuts with that thing."

John felt his cheeks flush instinctively. "Sorry," he muttered, dropping the pen.

Fin raised his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic surrender…normally the other man wouldn't have been able to resist the opportunity to give him an infuriating wink and grab a different pen to tap out the same rhythm, smiling like a Cheshire and asking if that one sounded better.

The morose stare that he realized was being delivered past his head pushed him over the top. He shook his head in bewildered frustration and took his hands off of the keyboard to stare directly at his partner.

"Alright," he burst out heatedly, shaking his head in irritation. "I can't deal with _this_ shit all day." He raised his eyebrows warningly in response to John's defensive look. "You going to tell me what the hell is up your butt right now or do we just keep pretending to work together until we get our asses called out on it?"

His partner winced and actually looked ashamed, which came as quite a surprise. Fin had been expecting a quick snapped retort. He was so taken aback that his irritated face slowly softened.

"John, just _talk_ to me," he said quietly, leaning slightly toward the middle of the desk without making it obvious to the others around them. "Whatever's bugging you…" His tone trailed off helplessly, almost like he was getting ready to beg, but he just scoffed lightly with frustration. "God, just…_say_ it."

The weak attempt at nonchalance couldn't hide the underlying concern behind the words. John wet his lips in obvious discomfort and forced himself to look right into the other man's eyes.

He hadn't done that since…._had_ he ever done that before? He didn't think he would be able to forget feeling so uncomfortable.

He and Fin had been partners almost seven years. They worked well together. They had an easy camaraderie, despite their almost daily snipes and banter, and even though he would likely never want to admit it in front of a roomful of fellow cops, he considered the other man closer than a brother.

But sitting there, looking at his partner as if he didn't recognize him…it was unnerving. For practically the first time, he was just seeing a man and not a cop sitting across from him.

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled before reluctantly leaning forward as well.

Fin watched his partner choke on his words slightly, sounding hesitant.

"How-" John swallowed. "How did it go when you went to see him?" The painful weakness that had overtaken his voice told the other man who he was talking about without having to say his name. "What happened?"

He met Fin's eyes again but his partner was silent. The pain he saw in them made him drop his head in shame. Unable to take it, he spoke again before anything could be said.

"I'm scared."

Two months of rage, anger, and stubbornness finally became second to the truth of what he had locked tightly away inside.

"I'm scared," he said again, his voice barely audible. "He's been through a hell worse than anyone should ever have to see in their _nightmares_ and I-" The word cut off in savage self-loathing as he shook his head. "The thought of him being in any more pain and _me_ being the cause of it….I couldn't handle seeing him hurt."

The pain made his voice scratchy as he admitted for the first time something that had been tearing his heart to shreds for almost three entire months. "If he wanted me to never speak to him again for the rest of his life…if he told me he never wanted to _look_ at me again-" His throat was clogging again and he had to struggle. "I can take hate. I can take a punch in the face…but seeing something I did making him hurt after what he-"

He couldn't finish the sentence. Tears were struggling to escape and he was fighting hard to keep them down.

There was a brief moment of silence across from him, but the reply seemed so effortless that it made him look up in surprise.

"I think he deserves to make that decision himself." Fin looked him right in the eye and his voice softened. "I think, John...that he deserves not to have that taken away from him too."

He could see John's eyes wobbling with moisture behind his glasses. He inhaled a deep breath and softened his expression again.

"Call them," he said simply. "Call them and ask to come over." When John continued to stare at him with a conflicted expression, he could see the apprehension in his eyes. "Someone has to have the guts to take the first step…" He raised an eyebrow and spoke with quiet conviction. "But if you ask me, he's already had to have more guts than any of us."

He stared at John for another moment before hitting the print key on the keyboard. Then he got up to walk across the room toward the machine, leaving his partner in silence.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She never thought that something as trivial as heating a can of soup could make her so excited. Olivia couldn't keep the smile from her face as she continued to slowly stir through the pot of Campbell's tomato soup, watching it boil.

The doctor had been very adamant the day before about having them fully understand the scope of caution concerning the start of letting Elliot incorporate a little bit of solid food in with the Ensure….soft fare only, mainly soups and pudding, and no more than once a day until his next visit in two weeks. He instructed Olivia to increase the servings of Ensure from three cans a day to four to avoid losing any of the vital nutrients he needed to keep his weight up. He also was a bit leery of letting Elliot start drinking other beverages besides water because he wasn't sure how it might affect his stomach and gave Olivia a long list of drinks that "under _no circumstances_" was she to let him have, including anything with fruit juices and carbonation.

Olivia had started to become worried as the restrictions kept coming. _She _understood the importance of taking extra caution…but she also hadn't spent the last month and a half tasting nothing but liquid protein drinks. What if the massive limitations only discouraged him more?

She was taking extra care to try and keep that from happening. Every opportunity she had the day before had been taken to repeatedly tell him how proud she was of him and how wonderful he was doing. She had convinced him that it would be best to wait until the next day to start with the new routine to be safe, because she thought his system might react better if it was relatively empty, but hadn't hesitated to encourage his anticipation of how great it was going to be to finally taste something better.

She continued stirring for another minute or so and then moved the pot over to a cool burner, switching off the heat. She moved behind her to go to the cabinet.

Elliot was propped up by two pillows on the side of the couch and focused on an episode of _Dharma and Greg _that Olivia had switched on. The morning Darvocet hadn't fully deluged in his system to knock him out yet, so at the moment he was alert, barely using the pillows for anything past what his sore body required to stay upright.

"Alright..."

Her bright voice came into the living room unexpectedly then, making him turn his head to see Olivia walking slowly from the kitchen. She was carefully carrying a tray toward the couch.

His expression still had that heartbreaking haunted quality that made her sad to witness but she gave him a warm smile as if it didn't matter to her.

Because it didn't. She didn't need a facial expression to tell her how he was feeling right now. Just the trace of the faint sparkle in his eyes was enough to have her choking up.

"Here we go," she announced warmly, her eyebrows raised excitedly as she set the tray down on the coffee table. "Your own personal room service, free of charge." She winked impishly.

The show was instantly forgotten. She could see his eyes following every move of her hands as she took one of the bowls of soup off of the tray and set it on the wooden tabletop. She pulled the side extension out and pushed the table forward gently before picking the tray back up.

"Are you okay sitting up?" she asked softly as she carried the tray laden with another bowl of soup and a glass of water to him. She hesitated a minute, uncertain if he would be able to handle having the tray across his lap with the support he had. "You want another pillow for your back?"

He shook his head impatiently and she had to hide a smile. She immediately nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Here you go…watch your arm."

He moved his left hand to the sling on his other arm so he could move it back out of the way and then there was slight pressure against his abdomen as the tray was set down in front of him.

It took every ounce of self-composure in her body to back away once the tray left her hands and move to sit beside his feet. The urge to help him was so powerful that it was making her crazy. She watched him sit still and just stare down at the bowl as if he was entranced by it.

Swallowing, Olivia forced herself to lean forward to the table and concentrate on her own bowl of soup. She stirred it with her spoon.

When she risked another glance up, Elliot still hadn't moved. Her eyes crinkled with anxiety but she tried as hard as she could to make it as normal as she could.

"I hope you know how weird this is to me," she said teasingly. When his eyes darted to hers, she saw such a powerful sadness in them that she almost couldn't keep up her smile. She struggled to sound even more encouraging. "Tomato soup isn't usually on my list of breakfast foods."

He looked at her for a minute and then moved his gaze back to the bowl without saying anything. She bit her lip slightly to keep in control of her emotions.

She could feel him watching as she lifted a spoonful of soup carefully to her mouth. His expression had turned uncertain and he kept looking from her bowl to his as if not sure what to do. She gave him a warm, inviting smile and took another spoonful.

His hand curled around the spoon as she was lowering hers and began slowly lifting soup up out of the bowl. Olivia felt her breath catch and she froze while trying hard to make it look like she was preoccupied with her own soup so it wouldn't seem like she was watching.

He stretched his neck down as his brought his hand up to take the spoonful clumsily in his mouth. The soup was warm and sweet in his mouth and felt so amazing that his breath hitched in a surprised gasp when he swallowed.

He looked up to see Olivia smiling at him so radiantly that it almost made her look like a different person.

"Oh, my God." His voice was barely a whisper as a feeling of absolute delight washed over him. "Oh, my God."

She had to blink back tears as she smiled so widely that it felt like her face would break. "Good, huh?" she asked tenderly.

He took another spoonful so quickly that it nearly spilled, closing his eyes blissfully. This time he let the soup linger in his mouth a minute. He let out a long, satisfied breath after swallowing.

He opened his eyes to smile at Olivia and his face immediately scrunched worriedly. Tears were dropping out of her eyes faster than she could attempt to turn away to hide them.

"Olivia?" he asked, his tone instantly anxious. "Liv?" He struggled to move the tray from his knees. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

The concern she heard in his voice just made the tears continue.

_He's finally tasting real food for the first time in nearly three months and he's worried about me. _

Her heart was swelled up with so much happiness and emotion that she thought it would burst.

_Oh, Elliot. I don't think I could describe to you just how precious you are to so many people._

She smiled brilliantly through her tears, shaking her head. "I'm fine," she managed to say, swallowing. Her eyes glowed happily. "Just fine."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She waited until she was behind the wheel of the car to dial his number, taking the opportunity while waiting for it to connect to let the heat warm the air around her. The bitter cold outside was still too much, though, and Casey huddled deeper down inside her wool coat.

"Cragen," she finally heard him answer after four rings.

"Captain," she said. "It's Casey." He greeted her warmly and she smiled as he asked her how she was. "I'm fine, thank you." She hurried to get into the reason for her call, seeing that she had twenty minutes until her meeting at the Correctional Facility. "I'm sorry to be short, but I'm on my way to a meeting now. I wanted to go ahead and touch base with you now because I'm not sure that I'll have time to call you later this evening."

She could sense his surprise. "Okay," Don said. "What can I help you with?"

"I just need an idea of when you guys think you can be up here," Casey explained. "It's going to take a little while to go over all of your testimonies and I want to make sure we have as much time as we can in case something unexpected comes up. When were you planning on arriving for the trial?"

"Well…" He sounded like he had to think about it. "I'm not too sure about Munch and Fin yet, but I know I had planned on getting up there sometime tomorrow night." He paused. "Um…I-I can talk to them today…do you think it would be better that we got up there sooner..?"

Casey considered this. "I think that it might," she finally said. "I was thinking that I would go over your testimony tomorrow morning and then spend the rest of the day going over theirs and the rest of the officers involved since they're already nearby anyway."

If the plan fazed him, he didn't let it show. "That's fine," he agreed easily. "I can just leave here later this afternoon and be there tonight. I'll talk to Munch and Fin and see if they can't be there by the morning."

"That would be great," she said, relieved. "Thank you, Don…I'm really sorry to just sort of throw this on you. I've…I've been a little bit more disorganized than I care to admit over the past few days. Thanks for being so understanding."

"Don't worry about it," Don said. He paused and bit his lip. "Um…when-when are you planning on meeting with Elliot?"

His voice sounded slightly strained. She inhaled somberly and replied a little softer.

"I went over a good bit with him while preparing for the grand jury hearing," she answered. "I was actually sort of hoping to get everyone else done by Thursday afternoon so that I can give him as much of the night before as possible to get settled and ready." She bit her lip. "But…I still have to talk to Olivia about it. Right now….right now I don't know that she is planning on them staying here Thursday."

The shame in her voice was easy to recognize. She was starting to realize just how preoccupied she had really been over the past few days….her mind had been so set on nailing the defendants that she really hadn't given proper time to everything else.

Don took pity on her. "Well, listen…I'm going to be stopping by to see them today because I have to talk to them about some things," he said. "If you want I can go ahead and talk to them about this as well."

She didn't hesitate to agree.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"God damn it."

The frustrated curse came out in a low breath as she pushed her rumpled sheets towards the floor. She had stripped the bed practically all the way down and still found no rabbit.

She didn't know where else to possibly look. She had gone through every room in the small apartment, even the ones she knew for a fact Elliot hadn't gone into, just to be sure she got every inch of possibility covered. It wasn't in the living room, the kitchen, or her bedroom…she had checked under the bed, the couch, and even had dashed out of the apartment to look along the hallway to see if he may have dropped it somewhere.

Nothing. Absolutely zilch.

Olivia hung her head in desperation. He had succumbed to the power of the drugs after getting down a quarter of the bowl of soup but had struggled to stay awake long enough to watch her search the living room, hoping she would find his beloved companion. She had wisely searched around the couch while he was still awake and was glad she'd had the sense. He had fallen asleep before she could make it to the next room.

Now it was almost an hour later and she was still coming up empty-handed. It broke her heart to think of having to tell him.

A thought suddenly occurred to her and made her stomach sink. What if they had somehow dropped it at the doctor's office the day before?

Oh, God…if that happened someone would probably drop it off downstairs at the children's pediatric center thinking it belonged there. They would never find it then.

_Wait…no…_She thought back hard. _Monday…Monday we were up at the courthouse. I remember he asked for it then too. So…it had to have been gone before that, right? Unless we just forgot it at home that day and he __**did**__ take it with him to the doctor yesterday and lost it. _

She swallowed uneasily, her face scrunched anxiously as she reluctantly left the bedroom to go back into the kitchen. Even though she had already searched there, she felt like she needed to keep trying to do _something_, as if maybe just the extra effort would make this stuffed animal miraculously appear somewhere she had never thought it would end up.

Like in the cabinet under the sink.

Or…in the refrigerator?

She caught herself standing with the door open blasting her with cold air and had to scoff in almost tearful amusement at how amazingly, pathetically desperate she had become. She decided it was time to take a break before she really did something nuts, like look in the toilet tank.

With a soft sigh, Olivia fixed herself a glass of orange juice and carried it over to the small breakfast bar overlooking the living room. She idly picked up the newspaper she had left sitting on the counter yesterday and began leafing through it, trying to keep the atmosphere quiet while Elliot was napping.

A quiet yet powerful knock on the door to the apartment came as both surprising and puzzling. She certainly wasn't expecting anyone anytime soon and the fact that no one had buzzed made her wary. If it was someone she knew well, they would have waited for her to let them in.

She crossed quietly by the couch, glancing at her partner as she passed and chuckling softly when she saw that he had his arm flung over the side of the couch and almost touching the floor. He looked dead to the world.

She tiptoed carefully up to the door and cautiously checked the peephole. The sight behind it made her start and immediately begin unhooking the locks.

"Elizabeth," she said quietly, her voice revealing the pleasant surprise to see the other woman. "Hi."

Doctor Olivet was standing in the hallway hugging her arms to her chest over a sleek grey trench-coat that almost covered her entire skirt suit. She smiled kindly at Olivia, looking slightly abashed.

"Hi, Olivia," she replied, sucking on her lip lightly. "I'm very sorry to just drop in unannounced like this…"

"Oh, no, no," Olivia was quick to say, shaking her head adamantly. She hurriedly opened the door wider. "Come in, please." She stepped aside and waved her hand invitingly inside. "Can I get you something warm to drink? You look like you're freezing."

Elizabeth's eyes twinkled as she grinned, keeping her arms tightly folded. "It _is_ dreadful out there today," she agreed, smiling. "But, no, thank you…I'm afraid I can't stay long. I had to take a late lunch and I've got a patient coming in about forty-five minutes." She shifted her weight to take a little strain off of her high-heeled feet. "I was just hoping to stop by to see Elliot for a moment."

Olivia's face scrunched slightly in confusion at the unusual request but was quick to wipe away the look before the other woman could see. Her smile was sympathetically disappointed.

"Oh," she said, wrinkling her nose in dismay for her. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth…" Her voice revealed true sincerity. "He's taking a nap right now…the medicine always knocks him out."

The other woman smiled in understanding, nodding. "Well, that's alright," she said, only sounding slightly put out. "I was hoping to surprise him but it's not a big deal. Let him sleep."

It suddenly occurred to Olivia the way the woman's face appeared mischievous, like she had a secret, and that she still hadn't put her arms down. Her features changed subtly to become suspicious. Elizabeth noticed the look and her smile widened gleefully. She chuckled, unable to contain herself.

"I wasn't sure if you allowed pets in the building," she said slyly, pausing to see Olivia's reaction. The detective's eyebrows jumping immediately in shock made her barely able to continue as laughter bubbled in her voice. "So I figured I'd better hide this just to be safe."

As Olivia watched, Elizabeth reached into the folds of her coat to draw out Elliot's rabbit. Her face split into a relieved and excited smile.

"Oh, man," she breathed happily, shaking her head. "Liz…I can't tell you how happy I am to see that thing! He has been going absolutely _nuts_ without it." She looked at the other woman in appreciation. "Where'd you find it?"

"The last time you came to my office," Elizabeth replied, also smiling as she held it out to her. "Remember it was raining so badly?" Remembrance dawned on Olivia's face and she nodded. "He must have dropped it out of the car when you guys were getting in…I didn't even see it until you had already left."

She ran her fingers over the soft fur as she took it, unable to stop shaking her head with relief. An unfamiliar, sweet scent permeated her nose then and she furrowed her brow slightly.

"What'd you do, wash it?" she asked curiously as she lifted the animal against her nose to inhale the pleasant smell. "It smells good."

Elizabeth smiled. "No," she replied impishly. "But I did let it take a little trip through the spin cycle with a vanilla lavender dryer sheet before it spent the night beside my fireplace. It was soaked."

Olivia was so happy about the rabbit that she didn't even pay attention to the way Elizabeth had now placed her hands carefully to cup near her stomach. She grinned widely at her again.

"I have to get him up," she declared. "He is just going to flip his lid." Doctor Olivet smiled empathetically but didn't try to talk her out of it. She gestured invitingly as she turned, handing the rabbit back. "Come in for a minute…he'll wake up easy."

She walked back toward the couch, hearing Elizabeth following. Her smile was tender as she crouched down next to his side.

"Elliot," she said quietly, reaching her hand out to rest on his back. She rubbed up and down gently. "Wake up, sweetie." After a minute or so he began to respond, cracking his eyes open to peer at her. He inhaled sleepily and murmured softly.

She smiled tenderly. "Hey, honey." Her hand continued across his back as he squinted at her, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to slide back down onto the pillow. "Guess what? Someone's here to see you."

His mouth drooped as he yawned. She smiled, looking over toward the other woman, and his eyes followed curiously. He blinked at Elizabeth without saying anything.

"Hi, Elliot," Doctor Olivet said with a kind smile. "I'm sorry to have interrupted your sleep."

He slid his head lazily back towards Olivia but continued looking at Elizabeth. His expression made it appear that he was surprised to see her but was comfortable enough where he was to not seem apprehensive about it.

"You seemed to forget something last time you were at my office," she continued pleasantly.

Olivia saw the way his head suddenly snapped back to face the doctor. It made her heart melt when she saw the look of cautious hope in his eyes, like he thought she knew what she would say but was still being careful not to get his hopes up.

She grinned when Elizabeth held the rabbit towards him and his eyes lit up. He extended his hand out to take it from her, bringing it in close to his neck and looking away shyly. She had to bite her lip to stifle a chuckle, thinking impulsively that if he had been alone he would probably have hugged it so tightly the stuffing would have come out.

He looked bashfully at the Doctor Olivet again. "Thank you," he whispered softly.

"You're quite welcome," she replied warmly. Taking cautious cues from his demeanor, she began venturing close to the couch. Olivia stood up as she got closer in case the woman may have felt uncomfortable standing over them. Elizabeth gave her a grateful smile before cocking her head slightly toward him. "Is it still alright for you to come see me tomorrow, Elliot?"

The shy smile he was directing toward his feet made Olivia hold back a giggle again. He was so happy right now that he probably would have agreed to anything.

Elizabeth grinned happily, nodding. "Good," she said. "I'm looking forward to it." She glanced over towards Olivia again with another mischievous smile before looking back. "Before I go…I brought something else with me that I thought you might like to see."

Her eyes twinkled merrily and she suddenly looked almost deviously at the female detective, cradling her hands to her stomach. "I hope the pet thing really isn't true," she said, reaching inside her coat.

Olivia almost fell over with shock when Elizabeth slowly brought a small black and white puppy out of her coat. She could feel her jaw dropping and it took quick thinking to stop it.

"I thought it time for Panda to pay you a visit," the doctor said, sounding thrilled. "You've seen enough pictures of him...figured you might want to finally meet the celebrity."

Elizabeth stepped forward without hesitation to drop the squirming puppy right down into Elliot's lap. The look of stunned awe on his face made a lump form in Olivia's throat.

He reached a hand slowly down toward the animal, dropping the stuffed rabbit by his side almost as an afterthought. His eyes were glued to the Dalmatian like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The puppy bumped his head up against his hand almost on accident as he was sniffing around and investigating the new environment of the couch. He made soft snuffling sounds as he stepped across Elliot's lap and begin checking out the cushions.

Olivia smiled brightly. "Oh, God," she said, looking warmly at Elizabeth. "He's adorable!"

The other woman's smile held indulgent pride like that of a parent. "He's rotten," she said teasingly. "Absolutely the biggest spoiled brat I've ever seen."

Olivia was about to say something else when the sound of laughter suddenly invaded her ears and made her stop cold. Turning back to look, her chest became so tight that she almost had to fight to breathe.

Elizabeth smiled affectionately as she followed her gaze.

The puppy had somehow managed to climb up and hunker his body into the crook of his neck and shoulder while plastering Elliot's neck and cheek with a small, rough tongue.

Elliot had tucked his shoulder up instinctively and was screwing up his face in reaction to the tickling sensation as he laughed hysterically.

Olivia couldn't even brace herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She hadn't heard that laugh for so long that she had forgotten how it sounded.

It was the most beautiful sound she thought she had ever heard.


	58. Chapter 58

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story. **

**Author's Note: Okay…so I know that looking at your work through a fresh pair of eyes makes things come to light that you never saw before, but _honestly…_ I'm still kind of in shock that such a blinding error hasn't been picked up on by anyone yet. **

**I'm just going to go with the theory that you guys are all too darn nice and didn't exactly know of the best way to smack me upside the head and yell "Hel-LO, you moron! Plot hole here!" So I'll just save you all the trouble because I've already done it myself. Several times. **

**If you recall, somewhere around chapter 37 (?) or so (bad memory here, forgive me)...I concluded a chapter with Melinda telling Casey about the results of DNA findings and how she found out that one suspect had the same father as Ethan Jones. Well, in the next chapter…I wrote that the two men were related by the same mother. Don't ask me _what_ I was smoking. **

**To make it clear now (because it will be important here soon), Ethan Jones and Jesse Madison are half-brothers with the same _mother_. **

Elizabeth chuckled, making Olivia snap back into the present. Her own giggle escaped when she saw that Panda had abandoned the licking and appeared to have found something he liked even better.

Elliot's smile was a mile wide as he looked down at his lap. The puppy had squirmed away from his neck and was now stretched out on his back, panting loudly in response to the hand rubbing over his belly.

She had tried to turn her head so that neither Elliot nor Elizabeth could see her tears but she hadn't been slick enough. Her partner wasn't paying attention, but Olivia could tell by the way the other woman was hesitantly switching her glance back towards her that she hadn't missed it.

"Uh…Olivia." Elizabeth's voice was soft and her eyes apologetic. "Actually-" She bit her lip in a smile as she looked toward Elliot again. "Now that you mentioned it…I could go for some coffee…"

Her expression made it obvious that she wanted to speak to Olivia alone. The detective was surprised for a second but made sure her face was controlled.

"Sure," she said, nodding quickly. She pursed her lips and swallowed. "Um…Elliot-" She offered him a tender smile. "Do you mind if we go into the kitchen for a minute?"

His hand was still buried in the soft fur of the animal's stomach, scratching back and forth. He appeared absolutely smitten with the dog and it was made clear when he didn't even take his eyes away while nodding.

The two women walked the few steps away to cross into the kitchen. Elizabeth hesitated slightly by the countertop as if not wanting to intrude in the other woman's space. Olivia didn't notice until she was bringing the coffeepot to the sink to fill with water and appeared surprised to see her standing there.

"Come have a seat," she invited with a slightly quizzical tone, for which Elizabeth couldn't blame her for. "It should only take a few minutes."

Doctor Olivet bit her lip unconsciously and fiddled with her hands. "Uh-well…actually, don't worry about it, really." She was horrified to feel her face getting hot and hoped to God that she wasn't blushing. "To be honest, as much as I'd love to, I really don't have time for coffee." She let out a breath slightly. "I just didn't want to talk to you about this in front of Elliot, so I figured this would give us an excuse for a little privacy."

The expression of caution that had suddenly overtaken Olivia's face made her feel guilty. "Oh…okay," she responded slowly. She raised her eyebrows a bit. The slight fear that Elizabeth saw beginning to form in her eyes made her feel even worse. "You didn't see something in him that should be cause for concern…did you?"

"Oh, no," Doctor Olivet said quickly. "No." She spoke rapidly, trying to ease the woman's worry. "Nothing like that….it's doesn't actually even have to do with him."

The look of relief that overcame the detective's face was obvious. Elizabeth stood silently for a minute biting her lip until she thought it safe to let it out.

"I actually wanted to ask about you," she continued.

Confusion was genuine in her features and Elizabeth sensed that she sincerely had not had a clue that those words would be said.

"About me?" Olivia repeated, puzzled.

Elizabeth nodded gently. "What happened to Elliot was tragic and absolutely heartbreaking," she said, her voice soft with compassion and true friendliness. "I'd be foolish to think that he is the only one feeling the effects." Her expression was empathetic but not condescending. "You're his partner, Olivia. You've been with him practically every day for the past eight and a half years and have trusted your life with him."

She looked at her hesitantly. "You've been taking on such a big responsibility for his care," she went on tenderly. "And I'm just… wondering if you've let yourself focus on your own as well."

The detective was so surprised and taken off guard that she couldn't even reply. She was startled to feel indignation start to burn in her chest.

The other woman could see how uncomfortable she was and spoke quickly to avoid the possibility of a stirring conflict.

"I just wanted to make sure you know," she said encouragingly, "that my door is always open if you ever felt like you needed someone to talk to about this. Don't think you have to hide your feelings to spare Elliot his." Her tone softened. "I'm a friend. You said it to him yourself." She gave a small smile. "I'm here for you too, Olivia."

Olivia couldn't even react when Elizabeth placed a warm hand on her arm for a moment. The doctor looked at her watch.

"I need to go," she said quietly after a brief silence. She looked at Olivia hesitantly. "I'll be more than happy to bring the dog back if Elliot ever wants me to…that's if you don't mind, of course."

Shaking herself, Olivia had to swallow and collect herself. She was still shell-shocked.

"Oh…uh, no," she said, shaking her head instantly. "Of course not…anytime, sure."

Elizabeth nodded and another awkward silence fell. She cleared her throat. "Ok," she said finally. "Well…I'd better get Panda back home now so I'm not late."

Olivia appeared startled, like she wasn't paying attention. "Oh-right," she said quickly. "Right." She nodded repeatedly as she stepped toward the living room. "Of course."

The detective gestured for her guest to enter the other room first before following after her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By now she had been through so many times that the guard didn't even have to open his mouth. Casey stepped right up to the table with her keys in hand and held out her arms to be checked. All of her jewelry had been taken off and locked in her car with her purse.

She went through the obligatory signing of the forms and the guard handed back her briefcase. He held out her visitor's pass before speaking only five words: "Room 8 on your left."

She walked down the dingy linoleum hall with even strides, smoothly accessing the door with a flash of the badge. The guard opened the door from inside and she stepped inside to begin the first of her last two meetings with the men about to be put on trial.

Casey wasn't sure if she had subconsciously saved these two for last because they were the ones out of the whole group that she especially wanted to rot in hell or because deep down she was terrified that these two were going to be the hardest to get a jury to convict. Her time after the grand jury hearing had been spent interviewing each of the other five, excluding Madison, and been forced to hear all of the reasons and excuses that each man gave for participating.

They had all made her sick, but somehow she knew that the accounts that she had yet to receive from Jason Evans and Ethan Jones were going to be the worst to witness.

She took a deep breath as she entered the small room and wiped all of her personal emotions from her face. But her surprise and startling to see a second armed guard further inside by the other wall broke through anyway despite her best efforts.

Evans looked absolutely livid as he sat next to Haskins. His hands had been cuffed on each side of the chair, forcing them down by his sides and preventing any movement below the forearms. His feet were chained in place to the chair leg. As she approached, he gave her a glare so full of hatred that she could practically feel the heat coming from his eyes.

Casey did her best to ignore it and sat down, setting the briefcase down flat on the tabletop. "Mr. Haskins," she greeted the other attorney coolly, flicking her eyes towards him and then the man beside him briefly. "Mr. Evans."

She refused to let the defendant hold her eyes. The handcuffed man didn't say anything, which she expected. After a slight pause, Dwight let out a clipped "hello" which she was almost positive was just done out of routine and had nothing to do with courtesy.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you know how this works." Her voice made it appear like she was as interested than as if she were reading from a takeout menu. "To set the record straight, I am offering you no deals and couldn't give one fraction of care about you or a single word that comes from your mouth that doesn't answer the questions that I will be asking."

Her gaze was icy towards Evans. "I am here because my job requires it and I will not leave until I have covered everything I came here to," she went on stonily. "So how about keeping the bullshit to a minimum so that we can all be on our way."

It was not spoken as a request and Casey leaned over to open her briefcase as she finished speaking to retrieve her legal pad and tape recorder. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Haskins was looking at her disdainfully but he didn't say anything to object. Hopefully that meant that he was in agreement to wanting to be out of this place as soon as possible too.

"Do either of you have any problems with this interview being recorded?" she asked, glancing up between the two men with a raised eyebrow.

Haskins shook his head slightly without speaking. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his behavior and looked at Evans directly. His stone face slowly eased into a comfortable grin that made her blood boil with anger. She could see the amusement clearly in his eyes.

"It's okay with me," he said easily.

She eyed him for another minute but went on, speaking clearly to ensure that the recording was picked up easily.

"Mr. Evans, I am going to begin this interview by introducing myself once more," she began. "I am Casey Novak, an assistant district attorney with the New York district attorney's office in Manhattan." Her eyes flitted up to the other man for a brief second. "Also present is Dwight Haskins, a defense attorney for the state of New York whom you have requested to act as legal representation on your behalf."

Her gaze returned to Evans. "You know this is being recorded, don't you," she reaffirmed for the sake of safety. "And you have no problems with that?"

Again with the smirk. She thought she could see a small glint flash in the man's eyes for a second as he answered obediently. "No," Evans said.

Casey nodded and interlaced her fingers. "I'm going to ask you some questions about the abduction and sexual assault of Detective Elliot Stabler of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit that began on approximately November fourteenth, two-thousand and six," she continued. "Do you have a problem with this?"

Evans cocked an eyebrow smoothly and after a minute he made a cool sweeping motion with his hand. "Have at it," he said easily.

She had to fight to keep her pulse from throbbing.

_He's mocking you. He's already **done** what he wanted and he knows that you know it. What fear should he have of you? _

Pursing her lips slightly, she glanced down at some of the notes she had scrawled on the tablet before arriving that morning.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell me in your own words how you were involved," she said after a minute of consideration.

The man across from her said nothing as she stared at him but a sly expression graced his face for a fraction of a moment that had her already tense-nerves getting ready to twitch.

Another minute passed and it was still silent.

Then Jason's lips curved up ever so slightly at the corner of one side.

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He was desperately trying to ignore it and keep his focus on the screen… he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had occasion to see _Happy Gilmore_ but it had always been one of his favorites. It was just pure dumb luck that had the station he had been watching deciding to show the movie after the morning sitcoms ended.

Another sharp pain washed down through his lower pelvis and this time it was enough to make him have to fight back a moan. He clenched his teeth and swallowed, trying to breathe through it.

_Okay Liv…now's a good time to get in here with those pills…come **on**, what are you doing in there, put the phone down… _

He really, really didn't want to call out for her but….**God**. The next twinge was the worst yet and made him gasp in surprise.

_Strong. Be strong…come on… _

Another followed almost immediately. He bowed his head and let the agonized whine come forth between his teeth as quietly as he could while screwing his eyes tightly shut.

"I'm sorry." Olivia's voice was slightly breathless in her haste as she scurried toward the couch. The intense pain he was in was more than apparent in his hunched posture. "I'm sorry, Elliot…I didn't think it would take that long, I'm sorry."

Guilt and anxiety was clear in her tone as she sat quickly beside him and lifted her hand to his back. The deep heave she felt under her palm communicated his agony as she carefully cradled the white tablets in her other one.

"Here," she continued, bringing them over in front of him. She rubbed his back fervently. "Here, sweetie, here they are."

He extended his hand for her to drop the pills into it and she lifted the glass of water as he popped them into his mouth. He drained the glass in three long gulps and then exhaled loudly, leaning his head back against the cushion.

She continued rubbing his back, feeling even more horrible when she saw that he had a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. She reached up to wipe it away gently and pursed her lips in anguish.

"Thank you," he whispered.

His weak voice was like a sledgehammer in her chest. "It'll feel better in a few minutes," she said, running her finger over his temple. "Just try and relax."

For the next few moments they sat silently, her hand in his allowing him to squeeze tight with every wave of pain that assaulted him. Each minute felt to her like an eternity until she finally she heard him heave a deep sigh of relief.

Still, she waited another minute before venturing to speak. "Better?" she asked softly.

He sighed again at the blissful warm numbness that had taken away the intense pain and just nodded.

Olivia reached toward the table again to pick up the other glass she had brought out with her. "Are you still thirsty?" she asked, sounding uncertain. "Do you want to try some milk?

The glass held not even a quarter of the white liquid…she was still nervous about what to give him besides water and had spent a considerable amount of time worrying about her choices before deciding on milk.

_It's healthy… it will even help his nourishment. Surely a little bit should be okay… right? _

_S_he watched him openly assess the other glass she was holding. It only took a moment for him to nod his head yes longingly.

She nodded back. "Okay," she said encouragingly, holding it towards him.

She waited for him to grip it before gently pulling hers away and watched him painstakingly try to aim the straw towards his lips with the hand holding the glass. The anxiety was still there, even as hard as she was trying to make it go away.

A look of unrestrained contentment crossed his face when he took the first small mouthful and swallowed it down. She was unable to help smiling with pride and excitement.

"Easy," she said tenderly when he immediately began taking another large mouthful, still smiling. "Don't go too fast, okay? Small sips."

His face revealed reluctance as he kept a small bit in his mouth when swallowing to prevent the whole gulp from going down at once but he couldn't keep his eyes from remaining lit up. She chuckled in amusement and shook her head, happy to sit and watch his enjoyment.

Elliot licked his lips after swallowing. "Who were you talking to?" he asked, pausing for a breath between sips.

Her face crinkled in confusion for a minute. "Oh," she said quickly, remembering the phone call moments ago. Her entire demeanor became brighter and made him look at her in slight puzzlement. She smiled affectionately in reply. "That was Munch…he and Fin wanted to know if it would be alright to stop over sometime later on." She paused before carefully continuing. "Would you like that?"

He stared at her silently as she tried hard to keep her voice as light as possible. She desperately wanted to make sure he knew that she would never pressure him to do anything and that it was alright if he wanted to say no.

The silence echoed for a moment when she finished speaking. His expression seemed slightly bewildered. But the look was gone before she could start to become concerned and she saw he was nodding as he took another sip through the straw.

Olivia tried to smile but couldn't stop the faint unease from sprouting in the pit of her stomach. He looked for all appearances like he was more interested in the drink and was agreeing without really thinking about what he was doing.

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Casey purposely busied herself with ejecting the tape from the machine and rifling through her briefcase as two more guards arrived to escort Jason Evans back to his cell. Being forced to see that damn smug expression that she just _knew_ he was giving her as he stood up would have probably made her temper finally snap.

She and Haskins were left alone in awkward silence while they waited for the guards to return with Jones. Her attention was well-occupied as she got a fresh tape for the recorder and looked through the other file and she had no problem acting as if the other attorney wasn't even there.

But as the silence stretched out, her fingers involuntarily began to clench on the sides of the folder and her jaw began to twitch slightly.

God damn him.

He was staring at her, she knew he was. It wasn't hard to identify that feeling…that feeling of having someone's eyes boring holes into her without speaking that annoyed the living hell out of her. She _hated _it.

She snapped her head up angrily. As expected, Haskins was sitting quietly, hands innocently clasped over the tabletop and a small amused smile on his face that told of what he was purposely doing just to piss her off.

She glowered at him, snapping the tape door shut a little harder than necessary, and then shoved both it and the file back into her briefcase. She stood abruptly and walked to the door.

"Excuse me," she said, as a guard just happened to walk down the hallway past when she opened the door. "Could you tell me where the restroom is, please?"

The man pointed the direction out to her and she thanked him, striding down the linoleum. She didn't really need to go, but at the moment she couldn't take another minute in that room.

Especially while alone with Dwight Haskins.

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He looked up at the sharp rap on the door frame to see Fin poke his head in hesitantly.

"Got a minute?" he asked, stepping into the open doorway.

Don looked at him warily when he saw that his partner was slightly behind him but waved them in without question. They stepped in and John turned to close the door, telling him right away that something was up. He pushed the work he was doing to the side and looked toward the pair cautiously.

"Uh, we-" Fin came up in front of the desk, clearing his throat as he spoke. "We were wondering if we could talk to you."

He was expecting him to continue and the awkward silence was noticeable when he didn't. Cragen furrowed his brow when he saw that the detective was apparently trying to avoid his eyes. The suspicion intensified when he switched his gaze to John and saw he was staring at his shoes with an almost guilty look on his face.

He put on his best authoritative expression. "Okay," he said slowly, his tone making it clear that someone needed to get to the point.

They continued to stand quietly. He watched as Fin turned slightly to look behind him at John, gesturing with his brows for the other man to speak, and his partner responded with a defiant expression before gesturing the same thing back to him.

No one spoke. Fin attempted to repeat the gesture and Cragen's minimal patience dissolved quickly. Seeing the captain about to open his mouth angrily, John blew out an exasperated breath and strode up toward the desk beside his partner.

"I wanted to ask if you'd mind if we went by Olivia's," he said, barreling through the words as if they stung his tongue. He took a breath through his nose shakily when the answering silence rang. Though he tried to hide it, the shame in his voice was obvious. "I just-really think it's something I need to do right now."

He fell silent and Cragen said nothing. John could feel the tips of his ear burning as the captain stared at him stonily. He prepared himself for the oncoming wrath but couldn't stop from glancing at his partner anxiously. The other man's leveled stare reflected his thoughts.

_You made this mess…now you have to deal with the consequences. Take it like a man. _

It burned him but he didn't fight it. Fin was right…he'd been being an ass for far too long and now he deserved whatever he got.

Cragen looked at him with an expression he couldn't read but still said nothing. After a minute he looked at the other man.

"Fin?" he questioned. John wasn't able to discern from his tone if he was pissed or not and wondered if it was being done intentionally. He swallowed. "You're asking for the same?"

There was no reply and John felt his heart drop. He kept his head intently down so he wouldn't see the look of contempt on his partner's face…after all he had done, he _deserved_ to be hung out to dry.

"Yes."

Fin's voice was clear and confident. When he dared to glance up, John was astonished to see the steadfast loyalty in his partner's eyes looking back at him. It touched him so deeply that he could barely keep from choking up. All he could do was narrow his eyes warmly in a weak attempt at thanking him.

Cragen looked between them with a quiet huff of breath that could have been disappointed. They weren't able to tell.

"Did you talk to her about this?" he finally asked quietly.

John saw Fin glance at him again and had to swallow quickly, realizing he still wasn't allowed to drop the ball. "Uh-yeah," he said, his voice slightly shaky.

The captain pursed his lips, switching gazes over them again. He raised an eyebrow almost as if in resignation.

"You know, technically," he said slowly, "as I was so _kindly_ reminded by Commissioner Geist just yesterday…" The dry bitterness of the fact showed in his voice. "We have other cases that right now are of a more immediate concern and I should make you wait until you are on your own time."

He continued looking between them as he spoke, seeing their faces drooping ever so slightly even as they both had their eyes fixed on the desk away from him. When he finished speaking, the discouraged silence hung in the air like a bad odor as he eyed them with a narrowed gaze.

Then he shook his head once curtly and sighed. "Which is why I don't think I need to remind you," he finally finished warningly, "of just how important this trust is that we're putting blindly in each other's hands right now?"

His statement curtailed into a question and ended almost ominously. He waited for the detectives to finally gather up the nerve to look at him before looking at each of them seriously.

"Some things have come to my attention that I have to talk to Olivia about," he said. "I was planning on going by there sometime in the next hour or so…I'll be willing to let you come along-" He saw a dash of hope glint in John's eyes and his voice changed quickly to convey warning. "_Only_ providing that as far as anyone outside this door is concerned I have received a lead on a case that has currently been under gridlock and need a pair of detectives to help with questioning a possible witness."

Fin nodded immediately with a somber expression and he kept a firm gaze on him before looking to John.

The detective forced back his smile and nodded solemnly.

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She sighed when she hit the end of the channel lineup again after finding absolutely nothing that held her interest. She reluctantly aimed the remote at the screen to key in the numbers for the Food Channel. The host of _Unwrapped_ was still explaining the different variations of Popsicles just as he had been when she had last gone past.

Melinda dropped the remote aimlessly on the comforter and stretched out onto her back, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling.

She was out of her head with boredom. The trials didn't begin for another two days and she had absolutely no idea what to do to entertain herself until then. She felt completely and totally useless.

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Her stare was unwavering. She could tell by the look on his face that he was disappointed when she didn't appear ruffled by his remark and continued fluidly with her questions.

"Then how did you come in contact with him?" she asked icily.

"I _didn't_." Jones' voice reflected deep annoyance as he glared at her. "Didn't I just say I don't know him?"

Casey looked at him in exasperated impatience, dropping her hands on the table with a frustrated huff.

"So you expect me to believe," she said angrily, "that you had no idea who Detective Stabler was…had never even _heard _of him." She nodded her head sarcastically. "And that it was merely a coincidence that he was abducted on the same day that a man who just happens to be your formal cellmate escaped police custody …the same man who, previously that week, had been interviewed by Detective Stabler in a Bronx precinct after being connected to four murders that you were proven to have committed…and then found a little over a month later behind the house that you and your buddies were occupying."

Ethan breathed out a laugh, his eyes and face suggesting that he was immensely amused by the entire scenario she had pieced together and their present situation in general.

Casey leaned slightly toward him angrily, her palms digging into the cold metal table between them.

"Why rape him, Ethan?" she asked harshly. "Trying to _prove_ something?"

Rage began controlling her voice before she could even realize it. She glared at him with a disgust that rivaled how she treated sludge on the bottom of her shoe.

"Tying the man up and beating the shit out of him wasn't enough for you? Had to get your _rocks off_ while you were at it?" The words spat from her mouth like something vile. Her face twisted with disdain. "So desperate to get it up that you had to force a man to have sex with you, you disgusting pervert?"

She was so angry that it startled her to finally get a reaction even though she had been purposely trying to goad him into one and made her recognize in shock that she had allowed her own personal emotions to preside over her job.

Jones lunged toward her with his body, making her flinch back even as they both remembered that he was too tightly restrained to do anything. Haskins jumped in startled shock at the unexpected action as the guards appeared almost instantly to surround the defendant.

"Shut the hell up, _bitch_," he snarled angrily at her, writhing against the cuffs enough to make his torso come up off of the chair. "You don't know who you're talking to, you mother fucking whore."

She remained back firmly in her seat as the three guards pushed him down into the seat and barked at him, brandishing their nightsticks after another minute of not getting cooperation.

Jones glared at her with enough force to send a private chill down her spine. "Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it," he growled, even as he was forced still. "_Nobody._"

Casey cocked an eyebrow coldly and sneered at him, daring to lean forward again.

"Did Elliot?" Her voice had become lower but almost seemed more deadly. "Is that why you did this, Ethan? Don't like it when someone reminds you how much of a coward you really are?"

"Alright." Dwight Haskins broke in then, looking at her in disdain. "I think you've proven that you're no longer trying to accomplish what it is you came here for." He glared at her. "You're not going to sit here and harass my client. I believe this interview is over, Counselor."

She scowled in disgust and looked at him indignantly, but just shrugged effortlessly with an expression of non-commitment.

"Whatever you want," she said with sarcastic obedience.

She switched off the tape recorder swiftly with a flick of her eyebrows that told them of how much of a mistake she considered them to be making. Her eyes were cold, though, and it showed as she spoke to Evans while putting her things back into her briefcase.

"I can't make you give an explanation for your actions," she went on, her hands busy with gathering her files and notes. "You want to keep it a big secret, hey…be my guest."

Sarcasm mixed with anger in her voice as she finished securing her belongings and gave him her full attention for another moment.

"Your motives won't mean jack shit when it comes to a jury...all that matters is your DNA that we have from inside the victim. It doesn't matter why." She smirked at him coldly. "You're going away for so long that your balls will be sagging around your knees before you see the outside again."

Jones just chuckled and attempted to stretch his arms as much as the confines of the handcuffs would allow as she got to her feet. Casey turned her attention to Haskins.

"Looks like I'll see you in court," she said firmly.

The other attorney nodded with a slight condescending smile. "Looks like it," he replied simply.

She lifted the strap of her briefcase to her shoulder and spared him another dry look before looking one more time at the defendant just see he could see again how much he had blown his opportunity.

Then she saw it for the first time and it made her freeze, startled.

Ethan finished stretching and lowered his arms slightly again, the lazy smirk showing that he still didn't regard her with any interest at all. But after a minute of seeing her staring intently and not moving, his lawyer became bristled.

"Do you have an _issue_, Ms. Novak?" he said with harsh indignation.

Casey hardly even heard him. Her eyes had narrowed in almost disbelief as she continued giving her attention solely to the other man. He finally looked back at her with an annoyed raise of eyebrows.

"Did you go to college, Mr. Jones?" Her tone had changed suddenly to reflect caution and uncertainty, totally different from her aggressive demeanor not a minute prior.

The completely out-of-nowhere inquiry had both he and Haskins looking at her like she was insane. She saw Haskins' mouth open almost immediately as if he wanted to protest but then just remained there without speaking, as if she had truly lost it. Jones looked at the other man with an expression that said she was nuts but his eyebrows furrowed in disgust toward her as he answered anyway.

" Eastern Michigan University," he said rudely.

"What did you major in?" she went on quickly.

Haskins made an explosion of air from his mouth in incredulous outrage. "What do you care about my client's education history?" he said. "Jesus…what kind of bullheaded-"

"Did you get yourself a college ring, Ethan?" Casey continued to ignore the other attorney and took another step towards the table again. Her face had changed back to the predatory look of before. "When you graduated?"

Seeing Jones about to open his mouth, Haskins quickly spoke before he could. "No-don't say anything," he said angrily, waving a hand toward his client authoritatively. He glared at her again. "We're finished here." His head flicked toward the side where the guards stood as he got up. "Guard, take him back to his cell please."

Ethan smiled at her in amusement as the guards came to unlock the cuffs from his chair. Casey just stared at him, her eyes gleaming dangerously.

They herded him out of the room and her eyes followed, never looking away from where the pale white circle stood out starkly on his right ring finger.

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The sound of the buzzing intercom intruded into the apartment as the end credits were rolling across the screen. The unexpected noisy intrusion made Elliot jump hard from next to her and Olivia turned her head toward him in surprise, putting her hand over his reassuringly.

"I think the guys are here," she said with a gentle smile, her words bright.

She squeezed his palm once as she got up from the couch and walked over to the intercom. "Who is it?" she asked lightly for her partner's benefit.

"It's us," came the replied.

She pushed the button to unlock the downstairs entrance, recognizing Fin's voice immediately. "Come on up."

Elliot looked decidedly uncomfortable when she turned back around and her face crinkled in concern. "You okay?" she asked gently, stepping back toward the couch.

When she was close enough, she was able to see nervousness in his eyes that he was trying to hide and her face softened in sadness for him. She reached out to caress his cheek gently.

"Hey," she soothed softly. She took his hand tenderly in one of hers and looked into his face. "Everything's going to be just fine...they care about you, sweetheart. They just want to come see you." She rubbed her fingers over the back of his when she saw that he still looked anxious and pursed her lips sympathetically. "I promise everything will be just fine."

A knock came on the door a minute later. She squeezed his hand again before going to answer it.

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The three of them were all silent as they waited for the door to be opened. He didn't know about the other two, but Cragen felt so nervous that he kept having to swallow to keep his throat from becoming bone-dry.

They heard the locks being unlatched from inside and then Olivia was coming into sight, smiling widely at Munch and Fin.

"Hi," she said pleasantly, stepping to the side and waving her hand invitingly. "Come on in."

Don waited expectantly as the detectives went inside for her startled look at seeing him behind them. She did do a double take, but recovered easily enough for it to actually surprise him.

"Captain," she said brightly, smiling at him. "I didn't know you were coming." She waved him in as well. "Nice to see you."

"I'm sorry, Olivia," he said guiltily, remaining where he stood. "I probably should have called, but-"

"No, it's okay." Her voice was insistent. "It's fine." She waved toward the inside again. "Please…come in."

He stepped through the doorway and stood awkwardly in the entranceway as she shut the door behind them. The inside of his detective's homes were not places he made a point to experience…it didn't matter how long he had known them or how closely they may work together. It was just something that had always felt unnatural to him.

She looked surprised when she turned back around to see the three of them, Cragen almost right by the door and Munch and Fin halted a few steps away from the entrance to the living room. They all seemed hesitant and uncertain.

Her face was slightly confused but she was still smiling as she moved up beside the captain.

"Well…geez, you guys," she finally burst out, unable to help it. She was giving them an odd look, for which Cragen honestly couldn't blame her for. He was sure he looked as anxious as the other two did. "Come on, make yourself at home. Elliot's in the living room…go on in." She held her hands out toward them gently. "Here, I'll take your coats."

"Um-actually, Olivia-" Cragen blurted it out suddenly before he could think. The startled look he received from her made his face burn, but he just couldn't help it. He was too nervous to keep it in much longer. "Listen, um…" He took a breath and forced himself to look her straight in the eye. "Would it be alright for me to talk to you for a minute? There are…some things I'd like to discuss with you."

Olivia looked taken aback. She blinked for a minute but immediately nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, sure." She continued nodding, stronger this time. "Sure." She glanced toward the living room, biting her lip and looking at him uncertainly. "Let me, um…make sure things are settled out here with him first?"

Her words were hesitant, as if asking permission, and he scolded himself harshly. He hadn't meant to sound like he didn't care about making sure Elliot felt comfortable.

"Oh, of course," he said immediately, nodding. "Of course, Olivia, please…do whatever you need. Don't rush."

They still hadn't taken off their coats and she didn't bother trying to ask them again. She didn't try to get them to keep going into the living room either because it was obvious by their faces that they weren't going to move until prompted. So she just strode past all three of them and didn't turn back to see if they were following, trusting that they would.

Her partner sat up against the back of the couch and she could see even despite his abnormally rigid posture how nervous he seemed. She smiled at him tenderly as she made her way over to him reassuringly.

"The gang's here," she said brightly.

She turned toward the living room and held her breath, seeing his eyes following. Relief spread through her when she saw the three men coming into the room. She kept a warm smile on his face and remained by the couch with him, trying to reassure him as much as possible. It broke her heart to see how timid he seemed to become with every step closer than came.

The captain was the first to address him, smiling warmly as he eased himself into one of the few chairs she had in the apartment.

"Hi, Elliot," he said kindly. "I hope it's alright that we came over to see you."

Olivia couldn't keep from thinking how startling it was to see her boss looking so gentle. Don Cragen would never be classified as a harsh man, but it still unnerved her to see him outside of the tough captain role she always associated with him. She suddenly realized that she had been seeing a lot of this kind of behavior from him ever since her partner had been found.

Elliot didn't say anything in reply and just stared at the older man meekly for a minute before averting his gaze. But his words seemed to break the ice for the others because Fin was speaking less than a moment later.

"Hey, man," he said, as coolly as if they had just seen each other earlier. "Good to see ya."

God bless Fin. Olivia almost wanted to jump up and kiss that man for being so…so _normal_. It was exactly what they all needed.

Then there was a brief, awkward silence. She watched Fin glance at John meaningfully as it stretched on and it surprised her to see the older detective looking so anxious. He looked wound so tightly that she half expected to see a spring pop out from somewhere on his body.

"Hi."

Just before she could try to say something, John finally emitted the word in a tone that was quieter than she had ever heard from him before. He said nothing else after that and appeared to be fascinated by something on the carpet in front of him.

Elliot continued to look more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment and it made her want to cry. Swallowing hard, Olivia moved to sit on the couch beside him and began trying to start conversation in hopes something would give.

"So…what's been going on, you guys?" she asked lightly.

She watched them briefly glance at each other as if mentally asking another to speak first before Cragen answered.

"Not…too much," he said carefully. He didn't want to lie and make it seem like he was being condescending to Elliot, but there wasn't a chance he hell he was going to talk about their work in front of him right now. He was honest but not forthcoming with any details. "We've had a couple of leads on some big cases over the last few days and it really helped things a lot."

He watched her nod with interest but not be able to help glancing at her partner at regular intervals. It hadn't been lost on them that Elliot had yet to say anything to them and it made Don's heart hurt. He wanted so badly to do something for him but just felt so uncertain.

The train of thought immediately made the reason for his visit pop into his mind again. He swallowed and breathed deeply before sending a meaningful yet subtle stare directly at Olivia and waiting.

It took another minute of obviously-forced attempts at making things light for her to realize what he was doing. She met his eyes for a moment and they stared at each other. After a minute she finally gave him a long blink to acknowledge she would let him get it done but the reluctance he saw as she looked away couldn't be masked.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um…I'm sorry," she said, sounding disgusted at herself. "Can I get you guys something to drink? Snack on?"

Biting her lip slightly, she sent a pleading look discreetly toward the other two detectives, hoping they would help her out in getting into the kitchen to talk with the captain without awkwardness. But it didn't seem to work well enough and she watched dejectedly as Fin and Munch glanced at each other uncomfortably before both looking at her with guilty expressions.

"Uh- no." Fin spoke up for both of them, waving his hand. "No, thank you…we're fine."

She tried not to scowl in irritation.

"Oh," she said, nodding. "O-okay."

Shaking her head slightly, she glanced at Cragen once more and had to resign herself to the fact that she couldn't get around it. His gaze reflected sympathetic understanding.

Pursing her lips, she took a breath and turned on the cushion to face Elliot directly.

"Okay," she repeated softly. "Um, Elliot…" She put on a soft expression as she tried to smile reassuringly. "The captain and I need to talk for a minute." Her eyes were tender as she momentarily forgot about the others sitting there and spoke with soft affection. "Would you mind if John and Fin stay out here with you while we go into the kitchen?"

The anxiety in the blue eyes made her stomach drop. She clenched her teeth and forced herself to keep the reassuring look on her face while gently covering his hand with hers in a way that wasn't obvious. He looked like he wanted more than anything to grab her arm and force her not to get up but he just nodded slightly and looked down at the couch.

Her face was pained but she managed to give him a small smile, hoping he could see the apology in her eyes.

"Okay," she said again, nodding. She looked over at Cragen for a moment awkwardly before getting to her feet. He took the cue gratefully and did the same while she looked at the other men. "Would…that be alright with you guys?"

They were both quick to nod but only Fin spoke. "Oh, yeah," he said, insistently for Elliot's sake to show that they weren't just trying to be polite. "Yeah, absolutely."

Don waited for her to lead and followed after her.

"We'll just be a minute," he said softly.

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All traces of sleepiness had evaporated so quickly that she felt as if she had just drunk an entire espresso.

The jeans she was wearing were the same ones she had worn the day before and slightly rumpled but Melinda hadn't even given them a second glance before shimmying quickly onto them. Her coat hid the old Yankees sweatshirt that she had worn to bed the night before and had been lounging around the room in all afternoon.

Ordinarily, she wouldn't have been caught dead looking so shabby out in public but at the moment she was so hyped up with adrenaline that she probably could have put on a leopard-print leotard and not even have noticed. Casey's phone call had just made her blood level skyrocket.

It took her about twenty minutes to find the courthouse once she turned down the street Casey had directed her to. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and locked the door to her car hurriedly before striding towards the steps.

The other woman was waiting just inside the doors, her eyes almost in a frenzy of excitement. She almost pounced on her when Melinda made it in.

"Did you bring them?" were the first words out of Casey's mouth.

She quickly held up the satchel she was carrying to appease the attorney's anxiety and Casey nodded in relief. She gestured with her shoulder as she began walking and Melinda almost had to jog to keep pace.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Alarm bells began ringing immediately in her head when the captain suggested that they sit down at the table as soon as they got out of the living room. Olivia looked him square in the face and saw a look of resignation that made her sick to her stomach.

"You're not here for a friendly chat," she said in quiet observation, remaining right where she was at the entrance to the kitchen even as he moved to the small table. She somehow knew that she was not about to like whatever Cragen was there to tell her and wanted him to get on with it. "What's wrong?"

Don sat down slowly in one of the chairs and didn't look at her. After a minute he sighed quietly, making her heart beat even faster.

"Olivia…" His voice was sullen, almost heavy as he finally met her gaze. "Please…I really think you should sit down."

That sealed it. She knew…she just knew. He was about to give her worse news than she could have imagined hearing.

_Oh, Jesus. _

She saw the look of surprise flash on his face when she abruptly came to sit in the chair across the table from him and knew he had been expected her to object again. Her butt had barely touched the seat before she was sitting ramrod straight, refusing to allow herself to sink against the back of the chair for support.

Swallowing hard, she stared at him and didn't speak. She _couldn't_ speak…her mouth was suddenly like cotton.

Don took a breath and rested his forearms lightly on the small tabletop to lean toward her slightly. No matter what he ever had to say, he always believed in fully devoting his entire posture to whomever he was speaking to.

"Olivia," he began quietly, trying not to let his voice carry out. "I got a call from police commissioner Geist yesterday to let me know that this Monday marks week eight of having two spots on my team that are currently vacant and that he has to crack down."

His face became pained. "He informed me that if I don't fill them by the end of the weekend, he will." Cragen let out a clipped breath. "Meaning he's got reassignment papers on his desk for two other detectives to take over your and Elliot's jobs."

Shock and absolute, total panic warred for control of each other as they raced through her every vein. She could feel blood draining from her face as she gaped at the captain, unable to even make a sound.

"And he also informed me," he continued heavily, "that the news of Elliot staying here has somehow gotten to the Morris Commission and they have told him that even if you both were to return to duty…" His voice became almost strained. "Circumstances will warrant you both in violation of the fraternization policy. The only option besides formally relieving you of your badges is to strip you of your ranks and send you to finish your careers in the offices of booking and property."

She was going to pass out….oh, Christ….she was going to pass out.

Olivia gripped the edge of the tabletop firmly as her vision became spotty and tried to keep breathing.

She was hallucinating. That had to be it. No way was this actually real….she was just starting to feel sick and was hallucinating.

The captain was watching her carefully. He could see her face had become dangerously pale, but as long as she was still holding herself upright he wasn't worried. He hurried to keep speaking so he could hopefully help her relax.

"Olivia, listen to me." He stared at her intently until she was forced to meet his eyes in order to stop feeling the burning gaze on her. "I'm not taking this lying down." He spoke precisely so she could understand his dedication. "I want you to understand that…we're doing everything we possibly can to keep this from becoming worse-case, alright?" His voice became slightly authoritative to try and shock her into focusing. "Listen to me so I can explain this, Detective…Olivia, look at me."

She swallowed hard but let her eyes drift back to his face, still unable to say anything.

"I put Elliot on urgent medical leave the night after he arrived at the hospital," he began calmly. "The maximum time allowed for that is three weeks, so then I had to use up the rest of his sick days to cover the remaining week or so until he was released."

He was looking at her delicately, as if expecting her to fall out at any moment. "I talked it over with Chief Stoneman and he agreed that Elliot should be put on traumatic time leave once all of his sick days and vacation time were spent. As of last week, all of his accumulated time is expired and because of the circumstances and the leave his position is being considered no longer filled."

That prompted her to open her mouth immediately and he had to hold up both of his hands to keep her from exploding. Her face had become dangerously defensive and he realized that it shouldn't have come as a surprise….Olivia Benson never had been able to remain passive when something could jeopardize her partner.

"That's not what I'm worried about," he went on to say quickly. His face became slightly twisted. "Olivia…look, we-we all…"

She was startled when his voice cracked and looked at him with an anxious expression. Cragen closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath, as if willing himself to keep going. His words came out fractured anyway and he delivered them in a harsh rush.

"The squad….they know about what was done to him," he forced out painfully. The look of devastation that crossed Olivia's face just at having to be reminded again of what happened mirrored his own as he stared at her. "No one...it hasn't been directly said by anybody, but…they know, Olivia. And everyone is hurting."

He trailed off almost helplessly and tried to get strength. "The last thing on my mind right now is Elliot's job," he went on heavily. "Even if he _wasn't_ physically incapacitated, I wouldn't dream of letting him go back on duty at any time in the near future. After everything he had to go through… Olivia, I wouldn't even let him come near an SVU _case_ if he were to ask to come back right now."

He swallowed. "It's not about his job," he said. "Everyone knows he can't work, _expects_ that he can't work. What we need to talk about what _you're_ going to do." His eyes stared into hers steadily and she could hear the weight of seriousness behind each of his words, making her stomach twist.

"Each year the department grants your standard four sick days and four vacation days," he said. "So I had to go through your payroll records for each year since 1999 to see how many have already been spent and it came out to approximately ten for the past eight years, giving you 54 to work with."

He paused to see if she wanted to say something but Olivia seemed deeply focusing on the tabletop and remained silent.

"Elliot was admitted to the hospital December 13th…Wednesday night," he went on. "Because of the urgent situation we were in, Chief Stoneman gave the rest of us the remaining two days of that week without it affecting our individual time cards even though John, Fin, and I were back here that Friday." He hesitated until she returned her eyes to him. "Olivia…I understand why you had to stay. I understand that you needed to be with him and that he _wanted _you with him. Please believe me when I tell you that _I understand _and I am in no way condoning you. Please understand that."

He bit his lip.

"But unfortunately…even with circumstances as they were, there was nothing I could do to appeal to the chief or the commissioner about granting you extenuating time away," he said dreadfully. "They were firm about policy and I couldn't do anything about it because you had no documented ailment or injury to consider using time for. They've taken from your allotted time for every day you haven't returned to duty since the 18th of December."

He looked at her carefully, fearing the impact of his next words. "The reason for the commissioner's call was so I was made aware that as of yesterday you have a little less than two weeks left," he said quietly. "If you don't return to duty by the end of that time you're spot is going to be reassigned…but due to this stuff with the Morris Commission right now, if you do return to duty I'll have to put you on administrative leave until an appropriate form of action can be decided on by the department."

His lungs were beginning to burn and it occurred to him just how long he had been speaking. He fell silent then, breathing and trying to work saliva back over his tongue.

Olivia didn't think she had any more of her heart left. With every word he had continued to speak, her soul had been ripped out, shredded, and pounded as if he had been hitting her with a two by four.

Administrative leave. The police equivalent to quarantine. Still part of the unit but considered absent. Surrounded by colleagues but inherently branded as no longer allowed to leave the desk.

Relieved of her badge. The one part of her that she didn't know how to live without. Detective Benson was engrained in every fiber of her being…she didn't even really know what it meant to be Olivia anymore.

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Jesus Christ.

"Most of this…well, it's my fault," Cragen was saying. "I started noticing something was off at around Christmas time…I knew people were starting to subtly infer to the fraternization policy among the brass and I should have sat down with you the moment I realized it." He sounded absolutely disgusted with himself. "But I let…my emotions get in the way. I couldn't bring myself to do it while Elliot…"

He shook his head and swallowed. "I know how much of a shock this is, Olivia," he said, trying to make his voice stronger. "And I know that, right now, the thought of such a huge change probably scares the hell out of you. Because…it scares me, too."

Her face was twisting as she kept her gaze firmly down away from him.

"We're all trying so hard to pretend we can still be the same unit that we were three months ago, the same…._people_ that we were three months ago." His voice became pained. "As long as we do that, we won't have to face the fear of trying to move forward. It's not fair, Olivia." His voice softened. "It's not fair to Elliot _or_ to us. He doesn't deserve to have his life defined by the circumstances he's in now. He deserves our strength to help him rebuild who he is." He felt tears in his eyes and had to blink fast. "And to face the coming days."

The mention made Olivia's heart slam against her chest. For as hard as she had been trying, the trials looming so close were never far from her mind and fears. She swallowed and made herself look at the captain again.

"Fourteen days won't suffice when it comes to such a major decision," he said. "I know that and I know how much you're hurting right now. But unfortunately, there's a more immediate issue to focus on at the moment."

He looked at her and spoke carefully. "I'll be leaving for Buffalo later this afternoon, the guys tomorrow morning. Casey wants to have everything done with us early. Olivia, she really thinks it would be best for Elliot to have you guys spend the night up there tomorrow night and wanted me to try to convince you before she called you herself."

He fell silent again, lowering his eyes when he realized she was back to not looking at him. With nothing more to say, he would have to rely on her to make the next move.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The awkwardness level rose what felt like twenty notches once Olivia and Cragen disappeared into the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw his partner shift slightly in his chair as if not sure of himself.

Elliot was leaned upright against the back of the couch across from them by two pillows but they could see how rigid he still was. His entire posture screamed nervousness. He sat with his body shifting subtly away from them while the arm not covered in the sling was resting down across his lap and slightly over his thigh, as if trying to cover himself even though fully clothed.

With working the job as long as they had, the behavior was recognized almost instantaneously by both of the detectives. For John, seeing it coming from a man he had always considered one of the strongest he knew was hurt so much that it took his breath away.

"How're you feeling?" Fin finally asked softly. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but the silence had just become too much to bear.

Elliot's shrug was so small that they barely saw it and he kept his gaze firmly on his lap. He didn't speak.

John saw his partner suck in his lip and could hear him swallowing hard. He let his gaze wander carefully to his friend so that Elliot wouldn't feel it.

His eyes took in the bowed head and the dark bruises still visible at the corners of his hairline. His right arm was cradled against his t-shirt by a stark white sling and dark blue pad. He moved his gaze down to the other one stretched across the lap of his grey sweatpants and saw that two of the fingers were taped together and the skin of his hand was inflamed with deep red indentions that were painfully obvious as being rope burns.

Feeling tears beginning to swell in his eyes, John took his eyes away from Elliot. It appeared that the couch he sat on was also where he slept at night, judging from the blankets tucked into the cushions and the third pillow that rested against the arm of the sofa nearest him.

The sight of a large plush rabbit wearing a stocking cap propped brightly up against the pillow made the tears slip free and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

"What, uh…" The sound of Fin speaking again made him instinctively duck his head to swipe quickly at his face before it could be seen. "What're you watching?"

It occurred to him then that the television was on. He hadn't even noticed it. Quickly touching his face to make sure it was dry, John lifted his head back up and turned toward where his partner was looking. He didn't recognize the show playing on the screen, apparently some kind of sitcom with a horrible laugh track like those popular in earlier decades.

"Just…just a movie." The reply surprised John so much that he couldn't stop his head from turning quickly back toward the couch. Elliot's voice, so timid and small that it seemed to evaporate, was startling in it's unfamiliarity. He had moved his head slightly to look away from his lap but still wasn't looking up at them. "It was over before you got here."

His heart completely broken, Munch surprised even himself by speaking then.

"What movie was it?" he asked lightly.

There was a moment of pause and they watched Elliot suck in his lip and swallow. "_Happy Gilmore_."

He was surprised to hear a chuckle from Fin's direction. "I've always liked that movie," he said, his eyes seeming to twinkle as he looked toward Elliot. "Especially the part when Bob Barker goes all kung fu and kicks his ass."

The words, quite frankly, surprised the hell out of John and he couldn't keep from looking at him quizzically. He would never have expected his partner the street tough to admit to liking Adam Sandler. Fin glanced over at him and his face curled up defensively.

"What?" he asked heatedly.

John shrugged non-threateningly and held out his hands. "Nothing."

When they returned their gazes back to Elliot, the sight of him smiling gently down at his lap made them both speechless. The partners looked back at each other with hopeful eyes, their banter instantly a distant memory.

"You know what's another good movie?" Fin continued quickly. " _South__ Park_. I never even saw it when it was in the theater, but it came on HBO a couple weeks ago…good God. I seriously thought I was going to piss myself, I laughed so hard."

Elliot's head came up and then he was looking back at them.

"My son loves that movie," he said softly. His smile was almost shy. "We kept telling him he couldn't see it, then I caught him watching it and it made me laugh so much that I sat down and watched it too."

They both smiled at him, but then were startled when his smile disappeared and he glanced anxiously toward the kitchen.

"You need anything?" Fin asked in concern. "Want me get you a drink or something?"

Elliot shook his head quickly and swallowed, looking down again.

John glanced at Fin to see him looking back nervously, taken aback as he was by the abrupt change in behavior. He bit his lip and attempted to sound reassuring.

"They'll probably be back in a minute," he said, thinking Elliot had been looking to see where Olivia was. "It shouldn't be long, I'm sure."

Elliot swallowed and his eyes floated back toward them, though his head remained bowed. "Why-?" They heard his shaky inhale as he continued in that same painful voice. "Why are you guys here?"

The straightforward question sent both of the detective's stomachs into knots. Fin saw his partner's face twist even as he watched his head tip down out of the corner of his eye. Emotion surged up his chest, making him have to fight hard to keep his expression composed and his eyes on his friend. He had to swallow too.

"We wanted to see you," he replied gently.

Seeing Elliot's face start to twist almost made him panic. "Why?" he asked in a trembling voice.

His head still hung down, John had to repeatedly swallow as he listened to the exchange above him.

Fin's voice became dangerously shaky. "Because," he managed. "We miss you."

Elliot's eyes lowered again and there was a long silence. John breathed deeply and slowly, trying to get back in control. But his gut clenched as if he had been punched when he looked up.

Elliot was staring right at him now. His face looked hesitant, his brows knit so uncertainly that it almost made him look lost.

"Why weren't you on the tape?" he asked softly, sounding almost ashamed.

John's face furrowed in honest confusion but he tried to keep his voice gentle. "What tape?"

His heart began to beat painfully when his friend's face twisted and he looked down silently again.

Fin bowed his head.

"We made a tape of the squad welcoming him home," he said quietly after a minute of silence. "His kids and everyone recorded a personal message." He paused before continuing. "It was about three weeks ago."

John felt his heart dissolve right into pieces.

Three weeks ago he was on suspension and refusing to talk to anyone. Like a selfish child. Again.

The composure he was so precariously struggling to maintain shattered. He shook his head, feeling moisture on his cheeks but not moving.

"Elliot." His voice was raspy, unexpectedly broken. He couldn't bring himself to look up to see if his friend was looking back at him. "Elliot…I-I'm so sorry."

Sobs bubbled up and out of him as if they had a mind of their own. Gasping and trying to speak, John couldn't even see out of his glasses when he attempted to focus on Elliot.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you," he whispered. "For hurting you…you mean so much to me, Elliot. I'm so sorry for making this happen to you." He could barely keep speaking. "It's unforgivable. I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Elliot."

Fin kept his head tipped down out of respect for his partner to speak and suffered the pang in his heart quietly at hearing the words of anguish.

The room went silent. John inhaled deeply and tried to calm down.

When he was able to see clearly, he was met with a bowed head across from him again and saw tears leaking down Elliot's cheeks.

A sudden shuffle startled him and he whipped his head toward the kitchen. Olivia and Cragen stood in the doorway.


	59. Chapter 59

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Deep apologies for the delay in posting. With a new school year comes a new bombardment of problems and I have been without Internet access since the last week of August. **

**To ****Jo****: Thanks so much…I think you know why. Perhaps this will be to your liking. **

Fin was up on his feet faster than she thought she had ever seen and striding toward where she and Cragen stood before she could move towards the inside of the living room.

"Can we get something to drink?" he said softly, stopping in front of both of them. His eyes looked meaningfully at her and then the captain. "Give them a minute?"

Olivia swallowed, her face twisted as she looked around the black man's frame again. It appeared like neither John nor Elliot was looking at each other but from what she could see of her partner hunched over had her pulse throbbing anxiously, thinking he might be in pain.

Don studied the detective's face and Fin met his eyes again. His expression was heartfelt and pleading while at the same time almost commanding in its insistence. He glanced briefly towards the living room, seeing from Olivia's distraught demeanor that something obviously wasn't alright, but felt something tugging inside compelling him not to ask questions now.

"Yeah," he agreed after a minute quietly. He stared into the detective's eyes, brows crinkling ever so slightly as he tried to read the emotions from inside of them. He sucked in his lip slightly, nodding in acceptance as he turned. "Yeah, why don't we do that."

Fin blinked, his face melting slightly in relief, and swallowed as he glanced to Olivia again. She shook her head, clearly upset, but stepped back toward the kitchen without speaking as the other two came up past her to do the same.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John ducked his head when he sensed his partner getting up and swallowed quickly, letting out a wet breath. He realized Fin was moving away but didn't dare raise his face. It was already bad enough that he had broken down in the presence of all of them…he wouldn't be able to take looking up and seeing the others staring at him.

His heart was throbbing so painfully that it was difficult to draw full breaths. He kept trying to wipe his eyes without moving to take off his glasses and realized with frustration that it wasn't going to do the job well enough.

_**Christ**__. I made him cry after practically two fucking sentences! Nothing will ever be the same…he'll never be able to look at me again without having to endure the memory of what those God damned bastards did to him. I'll do nothing but cause him pain for the rest of my life._

Agony stabbed through his chest again, making the tears stream out even faster.

He needed to get out of there. Right now. Elliot didn't deserve the pain he brought. It would be the best choice for all of them if he left the room, left the unit, left New York entirely…he would drop off the face of the planet if that's what it would take to keep Elliot from having to keep remembering the horrible things he'd gone through.

But even though his brain was yelling at him and scolding him, screaming for him to get the hell up….his heart was unable to stop the anguish at seeing Elliot upset. His raw instincts were itching to do anything to just make his friend not have to feel any more heartache.

Taking a shaky breath, he forced his hand up to remove the glasses and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. He sniffled and swallowed as he put them back on, blinking several times to force himself to focus.

"El-"

His voice cracked almost instantly and he shut his eyes, once again willing himself to breathe silently for a minute. He inhaled through his nose. Even though the words came out that time, John was dismayed to hear how weak his voice was.

"I need…I need you to know…I didn't mean what I said. I was cruel and selfish and you didn't deserve it at all." The tears made their way back into his voice before he could stop them. "I swear to you I didn't mean it." The words cracked desperately again as he watched his friend's shoulders continue to shake while he spoke and he swallowed while trying to speak through his tears. "Please forgive me. Please forgive me."

Hearing the quiet sobs continue from the couch made his heart break. John hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut in despair.

"Can't." The sudden whisper startled him enough to make his head snap back up and he realized Elliot was shaking his head repeatedly, his face down and twisted. "I can't. I can't."

The meaning of his friend's words hit him hard and shattered his spirit painfully. John couldn't have spoken even if he had wanted to.

He knew he didn't deserve forgiveness. He was an idiot to even think about asking for it. All this time he had been coming to terms with it and preparing himself for the reaction he had just known he would get.

But now having heard it…John was caught off-guard by just how much it hurt.

Biting his lip, he began to hang his head again as he felt the tears coming back but then more words met his ears.

"It's gone." The broken, raw voice was so devastated that it bent John's soul as Elliot continued shaking his head. "Everything." He gasped between sobs. "It's gone…it's all gone."

The tail-end of the sentence was almost a whimper and John winced without being able to help it, his face twisting dangerously. Swallowing, he blinked rapidly and moved slightly forward in the chair before taking a chance.

"What is?" he asked softly, gazing at the hunched form of his friend sadly.

On the couch, Elliot just shook his head curtly again and inhaled tearfully. A sob hitched involuntarily as he breathed only to disappear into another painful whimper as he continued to keep his eyes averted.

The sound was too much. John couldn't bear it anymore and found himself rising to his feet before he was consciously aware that he was doing it.

Elliot jumped as if violently startled and it surprised him enough that he froze where he stood. John was horrified when he saw the other man begin to cower against the side of the couch with a look of uncertainty.

Keeping his movements slow, John made sure his eyes stayed locked with his friend's and continued carefully toward the couch.

"It's okay," he said awkwardly, unsure of how to make his voice sound reassuring. He hesitated next to the cushion furthest from the one the other man was on and bit his lip. "I just want to sit here with you…can I?"

After a long moment passed without an indication of an answer, John sucked in his lip and very carefully eased his weight down to the edge of the cushion just barely enough to keep himself supported. He kept his eyes on Elliot as he moved, barely able to keep his face from twisting at his friend's expression of tear-stained nervousness. The other man was clutching the other side of the couch with so hard that his knuckles were white.

Turning slightly, he carefully placed his hands on his knees and swallowed. He looked at his friend with a gentle expression while feeling his heart hammering inside his chest but forced himself to remain still. Elliot didn't move from his position but John saw that he was looking back at him hesitantly.

"What do you mean, Elliot?" John inquired gently. "What's gone?"

Elliot's face twisted. He lowered his head, his features crumpling, and didn't speak.

John didn't speak either. The atmosphere seemed so fragile that he feared something would break if he did.

Then he saw the other man swallow.

"I don't….don't know what anyone is talking about." His whisper was cracked and almost sounded terrified. John watched his lashes move as he blinked down at his lap. "Everyone keeps saying things and I…" He let out a soft sound of anguish. "I don't remember."

He continued to look at his lap and stopped speaking then. John pursed his lips slightly, his thoughts a whirlwind as he tried to make sense of what his friend was saying and tried to figure out what to do at the same time.

_So…he's saying he doesn't remember much of his life before this happened? Does that mean that he…doesn't remember what happened between us?_

A spark of hopefulness instantly flared up in his heart.

_So if I don't remind him of it, he won't have to feel the pain of remembering and…I won't have to feel the guilt anymore. It'll be like nothing ever even happened._

Then almost a moment later his conscience kicked in and made him feel so guilty that he almost cried again.

_You're a real piece of shit, Munch. This man deserves friends who he can trust to support him more than anyone else in the world. How dare you even __**consider**__ doing anything to compromise that._

John closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. He looked over beside him and tried to put on the gentlest expression he possibly could.

"Elliot," he said softly. "Do you remember anything that happened before…"He found himself trailing off awkwardly as he was caught unprepared, not wanting to say the words. "I mean…wha-how far-?"

His tongue began to trip and his face began to burn. Elliot was looking at him uncertainly. Taking another shuddering breath, John closed his eyes again and started over nervously.

"Elliot," he repeated shakily. "A while back…the two of us, we had some…well, I-" His voice began to quiver again. "I said some things to you that I shouldn't have… I acted very mean and you didn't deserve it." He was trying to keep the tears from coming but they seemed to be defying his will. "Do you…remember what I'm talking about?"

His friend said nothing, only stared at him. But the look on his face nearly broke him…it was clear Elliot had no recollection of anything he was saying. John swallowed again and forced himself to keep speaking even while the lump in his throat was growing to astounding levels.

"I…I'm so selfish," he went on tearfully, his eyes scrunching with his effort to keep in the tears. "Elliot, I've been such a horrible friend to you…I'm sorry I wasn't on that tape and that I haven't come to see you. I've been so selfish and you don't deserve it. I'm so sorry."

His throat became too clogged to say anything more. Blinking rapidly, John bit his lip hard and glanced over to see his friend looking down once more. The pain in his chest was so prominent that he couldn't keep speaking as hard as he tried and finally he had to give up.

Neither of them made a sound. John was too afraid to look over to see if the other man might be looking at him. Elliot shook his head miserably after a minute and spoke so softly that John had to strain to hear him.

"You shouldn't have to see me," he whispered with his eyes closed. His face burned so hot with shame that he couldn't bear to even look up. "I don't blame you for not wanting to look at me…no one should have to look at me." He made a strangled sort of half-sob that made John's heart ache with sympathy and despair. "It's my fault. No one should have to look at me."

John inhaled shakily. "Why do you say that, Elliot?" he asked painfully. His voice was raw. "What makes you think we wouldn't want to see you?"

Elliot's shoulders began shaking almost before the sentence was finished and John could hear him quietly sobbing as he kept his face firmly down.

"Because of what I let them do," he whispered in anguish. "I'm filthy." The words seemed to open a torrent and his chest began heaving as he cried so painfully that he could hardly breathe. "God…I'm so filthy and disgusting."

John's face strained with horror and agony. "Oh, buddy." He was so shocked by the words that he could barely speak. "That's not true…that's _absolutely_ not true. You're not disgusting, Elliot." He shook his head forcefully, his expression tender. "You're not."

Elliot just shook his head negatively without looking at him.

"Nothing would ever make me not want to see you," he went on desperately, trying to calm the nervous shrill note beginning to creep into his voice. "I haven't come to see you because I felt guilty about what I said to you that day and didn't have the guts to come talk to you about it. That was me being a bad friend… not anything that you did."

He bit his lip carefully. "And it's not your fault," he went on almost pleadingly. "Nothing that happened to you was because you let it. Those men are monsters. They did what they did because they're evil."

The other man's eyes remained down. "I deserved it," he whispered in shame.

John shook his head, so desperate now he was close to tears. "No," he rasped painfully. "You didn't deserve any of what you've had to go through, Elliot. Not one bit of it."

Elliot swallowed, blinking tears out from his lowered lashes. "Why do you even care?" J John saw his face twist again. "I'm worthless." His voice became agonized. "All I am is dirty and worthless."

John pursed his lips gently and glanced down for a moment, hesitating. Then after a minute, he slowly slid over a little closer to the other man on the cushion.

As expected, Elliot's head snapped up fast in alarm. The moment he saw his friend's eyes lock with his, Munch froze where he was and didn't move another inch.

"I care," he said softly, his voice firm but not harsh, "because having you in my life means more to me than anything else in this world. You are the greatest friend I've ever had the honor to have and there isn't a moment in the day that I don't think about how lucky that makes me."

He could see the turmoil in his friend's eyes as well as the intense shame before the other man looked away quickly.

"And you're not worthless, Elliot," he went on brokenly. "Not at all. You're so strong and I admire you so much." He could see his friend's chin wobbling ever so slightly. His voice became tender. "Even as hurt as you were…you survived long enough for us to find you and bring you home. You're even testifying against the ones who were responsible for doing it to you." He made sure Elliot could hear the awe in his voice. "I don't know of anyone who could be as brave as you are."

He watched Elliot's eyes jerk back to his abruptly and it was obvious he was startled by the words. They stared at each other in silence, neither seeming able to look away this time. Once again Munch tried hard to make more words come and found he couldn't.

Then suddenly a shrill ringing broke through the silence and made both men jump. John reached for his pocket as Elliot looked away again. He discovered his faceplate showing no calls at the same time that Cragen came striding across the living room past them with a slightly abashed expression.

The captain headed for the hall closet and reached quickly into his coat pocket. "Cragen," he answered.

John glanced awkwardly at Elliot again, biting his lip. The other man had slowly shifted to almost curl against the opposite arm of the couch.

Don stepped back into the room a minute later. He looked at the two of them on the couch uncomfortably. John was sure his own expression showed his inward discomfort as well.

"I've got to get back," he said regretfully.

"Uh-" Movement caught his eye and made him falter, glancing past them. John turned to see Olivia and Fin standing slightly inside the living room as well.

"Um, I'm sorry," Cragen said awkwardly to them. "But I'm going to have to get back to the precinct." He gestured to the phone he still held in his hand.

Olivia nodded immediately, trying to ease his discomfort. She could tell he felt bad about having interrupted them. "Sure," she said. "That's fine…stop by again later. Anytime…all of you."

Tense silence swirled around everyone when she finished and she could see the three men looking at each other uncertainly. It took her a minute to realize what the problem was.

"Oh-well you-you guys can stay if you'd like," she said quickly, directing toward Munch and Fin. "I mean…you don't have to leave if you don't want to…"

Politeness was warring with protectiveness inside of her. She knew Elliot would be starting to fade sometime very soon because she had just given him a dose of medicine before the others had arrived, but from where she stood she couldn't see exactly if he appeared to be tiring. Even with their good intentions, she had a feeling that the presence of their friends was still probably a strain on him.

But Fin spoke up before she could even finish worrying, taking charge again for the second time and surprising them all.

"You know what," he said gently, "It actually might be better if we came back later."

He looked at his partner, willing him to read his face, and seemed surprised when John appeared to be doing just that. Munch was nodding as he got to his feet.

"Yeah," John said, glancing at Fin and then Elliot. Fin could tell by the look in his partner's eyes that he was about to make up an excuse just to spare Elliot's feelings. "Remember we've got that…that thing to go over with Brown and Rosenetti this afternoon?"

His partner nearly laughed, not because of what John was trying to do but simply for the fact that he was a lousy liar and everyone pretty much knew it. Not to mention, of course, that he'd just _had_ to include the names of a pair of detectives that all of them, including Elliot, had watched be transferred almost two years ago and hadn't worked with since.

Fin didn't miss a beat, though, barely even blinking. "That's right," he said, nodding as if having forgotten. "We should be meeting with them in about an hour, right?"

John nodded just to keep up the charade. When he looked at Olivia, he saw her expression was appreciative and warm as she smiled. They hadn't fooled her at all, which he had figured before he even opened his mouth, and if he was honest he would have to admit that it probably wouldn't fool Elliot either.

Well…at least he had tried. He smiled uneasily back at her.

Fin moved up past the couch, looking to the captain. Munch decided to follow suit as Olivia came up to stand next to where Elliot was.

"Yeah, we'll come back," Don said again, smiling at her painfully and trying not to show his emotions. He swallowed, hesitating before looking down at Elliot's form. "If…if you want us to, Elliot." His voice was kind and soft.

Olivia held her breath when she felt the tangible stiffness in the air. She saw the men all trying not to look nervous while glancing at Elliot but knew they were hoping their efforts in coming that day had been successful.

She tried not to let her surprise show when her partner unexpectedly turned a little to look at the three men.

"All of you?" he asked.

There was no denying the hopeful tone in his voice or on his face and he seemed to be making a point to look at each one of them in turn. Olivia nearly choked when emotion rose abruptly in her throat but she couldn't keep the smile from her face. Cragen, John, and Fin looked so pleased and startled that they seemed to not even know what to say.

The captain finally smiled broadly, looking so unlike himself that it made the other three standing visibly startle.

"Anytime you want," he replied warmly, nodding. "We'll be here."

John couldn't keep the smile from his face either. He felt like crying, shouting, and laughing at the same time.

An abrupt lightness consumed him to take him by surprise but he didn't fight it at all. Even before they could say goodbye, he felt as if he didn't plant his feet he would have come up off of the floor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was getting chillier by the minute, he could feel it. He couldn't look to see what time it was because his cell phone was lying over by the lamppost to avoid having it fall out of his pocket and get stomped on, but Dickie could tell by the way the sun had moved away that it was getting close to dusk.

"Blue 51…"

The sound of Kevin Wagner's voice in front of him quickly got him back into focus. Tightening his squatted stance, he positioned his hands in front of him and held his breath.

His friend looked around at the other five boys scattered in various positions around them, preparing for the snap.

"Blue 51…" he repeated in the same pathetically-produced attempt at an intimidating baritone. He looked around again menacingly and then squatted toward the ground. "Hut, HIKE!"

The football flew into his waiting hands as Kevin took off running across the front lawn. Three of the others tore after him while the remaining two turned to advance on Dickie.

He faked left and lowered his shoulder, ramming Dylan Biggs who was squaring in for his side. But the motion freed up the advantage for Josh Inman on his right who instantly positioned for a side tackle.

He had no choice. Kevin was still several feet from the goal marker on the other end of the lawn but Josh knew how to throw his weight in ways that rivaled a television sumo…he was too close to him to attempt another step forward.

Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, Dickie snapped his arm back and spiraled the football towards the other side. It escaped his fingertips just before Josh sent him to the ground.

On the other side, Kevin and the other two boys playing defensive clambered toward the spiraling projectile. Even from where he lay slammed into the dirt by his left shoulder, Dickie could see that his teammate would never be agile enough to capture the ball before the defense could get hold of it, so instead of trying to spring back to his feet he surrendered where he was to just watch what would happen across the field.

If he was wrong, well…Kevin would see to it that he made up for it somehow, that much he knew for a fact. His friend was very serious about his competition. It was just a friendly game, but if it turned out he had caused them to miss a score because he underestimated Kevin's abilities, he would probably end up having to do the other guy's homework for a year.

He selfishly continued to hope for the fumble. He wasn't disappointed. Dickie couldn't keep from grinning evilly as he watched his friend tumble to the ground after his attempt to snatch the ball was unsuccessful. Behind him, Josh and Dylan were whooping as their teammate nabbed the touchdown.

Kevin pounded his fist into the ground and yelled out angrily as he rolled to his feet again. He shot Dickie a sour glare. Dickie scowled empathetically so that his friend wouldn't be able to see what he had really been thinking and shook his head as he got up too.

He heard his cell phone ringing as he was jogging back to the other side of the lawn again and turned immediately toward it.

"Time!" he called out, slowing to a walk. He wiped his sweating face with the sleeve of his fleece and bent down to retrieve the phone, answering out of breath. "Hello?"

"Mom just called," his twin said matter-of-factly without even identifying herself. "She said we're not going to be able see Dad for very long tonight and we need to be ready to go as soon as she gets here if we want to go with her. She said she'll be home in ten minutes."

Anxiety surged through him and the words were out of his mouth in seconds. "I'll be there in five," he said in a rush, and then hung up without even waiting for her to say anything.

The game was instantly gone from his mind. Dickie pocketed the phone and began running toward the street, blowing right by his friends without even a glance.

"Gotta go home, guys!" he yelled over his shoulder.

He heard them complaining loudly and griping about his sudden departure as he sprinted down the street but he didn't even take the time to look back.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Laughter from beside her made Casey turn her head curiously away from the movie turned down low on the television toward the other bed. Propped up on two pillows and half under the covers, Melinda shook her head against the phone she was cradling against her ear.

"He did, huh?" she asked, chuckling. Her eyes were shining and mischievous. "Well….was it good?"

Her laughter made Casey look over again, unable to help it. She smiled as she listened to the other woman chattering brightly before turning back to the movie again so as not to seem rude.

After a few minutes, she heard the phone snap shut and waited until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye to turn again.

"Was that your daughter?" Casey asked with a knowing smile. It had been obvious after the first few sentences.

Melinda put the phone on the bedside table and smiled. "Yeah," she replied, shaking her head. The call had been unplanned and unexpected. "Apparently, Mike saw some cooking commercial this morning and decided he could make whatever it was being advertised…"

Her tone made Casey laugh again and Melinda joined her.

"Kayla said it tasted like a baby doll shoe," she said, recounting her daughter's words with amusement. She closed one eyes with embarrassment and sympathy. "Poor Mike, God bless him…that man could burn cereal."

Casey chuckled. "Sounds kind of like me," she said contritely. "One time I blew up my microwave trying to cook a frozen chicken breast."

The black woman looked at her, startled. "Why would you put a frozen chicken in the microwave?" she asked in disbelief.

She burst out laughing and couldn't reply. Melinda's face split into a wide grin as she did the same and before long neither of them could catch their breath.

The hotel phone rang loudly to startle them. Casey groaned, being closest, and coughed loudly between guffaws. The sound seemed to set Melinda off again, which just made it worse for her.

After the third ring, she realized one of them had to calm down. She sucked in a breath and reached quickly over to the nightstand.

"Hello?" she choked.

"Casey."

The voice made her sober in seconds. Melinda looked at her quizzically, catching her breath.

"Hi, Don," she said quietly.

The atmosphere turned serious instantly.

"I'm settled in," he said heavily. "Whenever you're ready."

She exhaled quietly. "Okay," she said. "You want to meet downstairs?"

"Sure," he replied, equally as quietly.

"I'll meet you in ten minutes," she murmured. "Bye."

She set the phone back in the cradle and turned to face the television screen with a blank expression. Melinda contemplated saying something but, seeing the look in Casey's eyes, bit her lip and decided to stay quiet.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The two women stayed back and smiled tenderly as they watched Elliot happily embrace each of his children.

When Dickie had completed his hug, he stepped back toward Kathy and looked to his father with an excited smile.

"Hey, Dad," he said, reaching out to accept the tall, lidded Styrofoam cup she had held for him while he had gone to his father. He suddenly appeared somewhat nervous. "We, um…we-we got you something."

He bit his lip and looked at his mother, double-checking that it really was alright for his dad to have it even though he had already asked three times during the car ride over. Kathy nodded warmly at him and encouraged him with her eyes.

Seeing the surprised look on his dad's face, Dickie stepped back toward him and held out the cup.

"Chocolate with vanilla mixed in," he said softly. "Just like I promised."

Elliot's brow crinkled in confusion as he looked at his son and he cocked his head slightly, but instinctively raised the straw to his mouth without a second thought. Olivia and Kathy glanced at each other excitedly, anticipating his reaction.

The explosion of sensory pleasure that assaulted him with the first taste of the milkshake was unexpected and his face drew up blissfully. His smile was effortless as he sucked up another big mouthful almost before swallowing the first.

"Take it easy," Olivia said gently, seeing him about to take another. She smiled when he looked up at her in surprise but nodded firmly. "Slow down, ok? You don't want to make your stomach upset."

He lowered the cup reluctantly but continued licking his lips, looking at Dickie in appreciation.

"Is it good, Dad?" Elizabeth asked from beside the couch with a smile. His face was so bright that it made her own light up just looking at it.

"Delicious," he said, nodding. He reached his arm out towards his daughters, standing a little ways away from Dickie, as he drew in the closest ones he could reach down against him. Kathleen and her brother ended up pressed up into him and slightly squished, but neither minded a bit. He buried his face in his daughter's hair. "Thank you, guys. I love you so much."

Not wanting to be left out of the family hug, Elizabeth squirmed her way down against her father's other side carefully, mindful of his hurt arm. She nestled her head against his shoulder with a smile.

Maureen, deciding the couch was a bit too small for all of them, opted to stay where she was at the side and just smiled tenderly, enjoying the moment.

Her eyes just happened to wander slightly toward the floor and she suddenly noticed a stack of folded blankets sitting beside the other end of the couch. She recognized one of them as one she recalled seeing her dad using during one of their earlier visits and decided that the couch must have been where he slept at night.

Then she saw something and had to do a double take before confirming what she'd seen.

The stuffed rabbit she had bought for him way back before Christmas. It was propped up against the other side of the blanket pile. It also looked quite a bit more worn than she remembered it being when she'd purchased it.

Her heart bursting with warmth, she smiled widely and blinked back tears.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_It was so quick that he hardly was able to process it. Three men were surrounding him in what felt like the blink of an eye, forming a tight circle. Before he could even take them all in, something gleamed in the moonlight and then his midsection was suddenly crushed with the worst pain he had ever felt in his life._

_He screamed out in shock and agony only to choke so hard on the gag in his mouth that it made vomit rise up his throat. Immediately he struggled to move his body away but their feet were right over him making it impossible._

_Light glinted again and he heard a dull thump. The pain exploded through his groin this time and was so severe that he wailed, choking again. Tears were streaming now, and as he blinked through them he suddenly could see what was in one of their hands. The realization made him whimper hysterically and tried to struggle again, but he was in so much pain that he couldn't._

_The metal baseball bat came up again, his muffled pleas for mercy drowned out by their drunken laughter. He was forced to watch it this time, the man holding it poised up over him with a sick smile. The man feigned bringing it down again and they all laughed at his piercing scream of fear._

_Then the laughter was gone and the bat was whooshing through the air, slamming against flesh and bone over and over again. He tried at first to choke back the screams and sobs but it quickly became too much. His wailing cries of anguish were soon mixing with each thump of metal and grunt of the swinger in the night air. _

_He knew then that he was about to die._

Elliot screamed out in his sleep, jerking and twisting frantically to escape. His stomach dropped and then he suddenly found himself on the carpet, gasping through sobs.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia turned over blearily, squinting painfully and trying clumsily to make sense of her sleep-hazed surroundings. Hearing the screaming from down the hall, she quickly struggled to focus and began kicking at her covers to get them off. She slid off of the bed fast and nearly fell when her sleepy limbs protested.

She stumbled down the hall and through the kitchen, blinking and trying to get herself alert. His screams became louder and more piercing with each step closer only to abruptly become painful sobs as she entered the living room.

Her heart thumped in her chest anxiously as she hurried to turn on the light. She was shocked and startled by the sight of her partner sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, the blanket tangled around his waist and lower body.

It was obvious right away by his crushed expression what had happened. She sucked in a horrified breath as she rushed towards him.

"Oh…" she breathed in anguish. "Oh, no..." She was on her knees beside him in a second, reaching for him. "Oh, _sweetheart_-"

He looked disoriented and scared as he cried hysterically, clenching one fist over and over awkwardly and not even aware he was doing it. Olivia quickly cradled his shoulders to help him sit upright and then immediately reached over his body.

"Let me see your arm," she said soothingly, gently taking the sling in her hands. She anxiously fingered it lightly, her voice slightly panicked. "How does your arm feel, Elliot? Is it okay, does it hurt?" Terror coursed through her at the thought of more damage accidentally having been done to it.

He heaved out sobs, his face red with the force of them. He shook his head in response to her question. She moved back to sit on the carpet and quickly took him in her arms then, swallowing and trying to calm her own breathing.

"Shh…shh, ok," she soothed tenderly, hugging him warmly. "Ok. Shh, honey, it's alright. It's alright." Blowing out another deep breath, Olivia dropped her tense shoulders and nuzzled her face into his neck. "What happened, sweetheart?" She ran her hand across his shoulders soothingly. "Did you fall?"

He awkwardly hiccupped out attempts at words and she couldn't understand a single thing. She could feel rigidity in his muscles, as if he was tensing his entire body, and she frowned worriedly, continuing to rub warmly over his back. He buried his face in her shoulder and cried.

"Bat…had a bat," he was sobbing. She had strain to make out even that. He choked and sobbed, whining in anguish. "He-he-it-"

The words just couldn't come out clearly. She kissed his cheek and rocked him sadly, trying to calm him down as he continued to sputter and wail.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The night was long and restless for him but it still came as a cold shock to Fin when the alarm piercingly made itself known. Somehow, _sometime_, he had managed to fall asleep….but he could swear it had only been ten minutes ago. No way could it be six o'clock.

Steeling himself, he reluctantly cracked one eye open and blearily searched for the radio.

6:01 am.

The music continued blasting away next to his ear, steadily performing it's daily duty of rousing the dead from six feet under. He groaned in agony and reached his arm over to slam the snooze button, pressing the pillow firmly against his face.

_It can't be morning already. It can't be. Please be a dream._

Even knowing it was a mistake, Fin allowed his body to relax and closed his eyes again. Two minutes. Just two minutes to relax…he wouldn't fall asleep. In two minutes he would be fresh and ready.

The music blasted again into his subconscious to jerk him awake after the two minutes and he inhaled deeply in anguish, but forced himself into awareness. Blowing out the breath loudly, he began sitting up while reaching to shut off the alarm completely.

Seeing the numbers made him start in shock. His two minutes had actually been twenty... it was now almost twenty-five after six.

"Shit!" he swore, bolting straight out from underneath his warm covers.

His partner was going to be there in twenty minutes. They had decided to drive up to Buffalo together to save gas and money and Casey had asked them to be there by noon at the latest. John had insisted on leaving as soon as possible and had told him he would be by to pick him up at quarter to seven.

The man was always early and it irritated the hell out of him. Fin didn't doubt at all the possibility of his partner showing up before 6:40.

Shaking his head and cursing some more, he grabbed his robe and hurried toward the bathroom.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Blowing out a breath sleepily, Elliot took the glass she was holding towards him and reluctantly began to slowly drink down the Ensure. His expression was lazy and tired. Olivia smiled affectionately and softly rubbed her hand over the back of his neck for a minute.

The buzzer sounded from outside, making his eyes dart over towards it in alarm, and he immediately pulled the straw away from his mouth. He looked at her with his brow crinkled anxiously.

"Who's that?" he asked hesitantly, looking pensive.

She laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Kathy, I'm sure," she said with certainty. "Remember she's coming to bring you some clothes so we can get packed?"

He didn't say anything. She smiled lightly as she stood up and went to the intercom.

"Who is it?" she asked automatically into the speaker.

"It's the clothes fairy," the other woman replied pleasantly. "I come bearing gifts."

Chuckling, Olivia depressed the downstairs locking mechanism. "Come in," she said.

When she turned back around, though, her smile disappeared when she saw the look of uncertainty on his face. Her brows furrowed in concern and she took a step back toward him.

"Elliot?" she asked softly. "Something wrong?"

He looked up at her with hesitant eyes. "Why are we packing?" he asked, sounding confused. "Are we going somewhere?"

The question threw her for a complete unexpected loop. She stared at him worriedly, unable to help it, and what she saw in his face wasn't reassuring. He appeared to honestly have no idea.

She bit her lip. "Honey," she said slowly, trying hard not to let it show how unsettled she had become, "We're going up to Buffalo today…remember I told you we have to leave after your visit with Doctor Olivet this afternoon?" His expression didn't change and she felt her stomach muscles clench ever-so-slightly. She continued softly. "Elliot, we're going to be in court tomorrow morning. Remember?"

The panic that came into his eyes made her heart hurt. His face threatened to crumble nervously.

"Are…are they going to be in there?" he asked dreadfully. His voice wavered "Olivia, they won't be there, will they?"

Olivia felt tears of despair and panic welling in her eyes. "Elliot-"

Her voice was choking and she knew it, but she just couldn't help it. He had been asking that same question nearly every day since Casey had come to first go over his grand jury testimony even after they all continued to gently remind him of the answer. It broke her heart and scared her at the same time.

She took a brave breath and sat down beside him gently. "Yes, baby," she said softly, amazed when her voice came out steadily. She placed her hand over his and held it as she nodded. "They all have to be in there too."

His head came down and tears spilled from his eyes onto his lap. She desperately leaned closer to wrap her arm around him, bringing her face down towards his.

"Sweetheart, it's okay," she whispered painfully. She swallowed. "Elliot, they can't hurt you anymore." She squeezed his hand again. "I'd never, _ever _let any of those men near you. I promise they won't hurt you."

She was hoping her words would help but they only seemed to have the opposite effect. His back just quivered harder and his tearful breaths didn't stop.

Clenching her teeth and trying not to cry herself, Olivia was overcome with frustration and pain.

Then a thought occurred to her that hadn't before and startled her so much that she froze.

_Put yourself in his place. Visualize a group of guys bigger than you, some maybe twice your size and all who bench more than you do. Imagine your arm is broken and you don't have your gun and you've got bruised ribs…and these guys don't want to just slug you in the face. They want to __**rape**__ you. _

_And then Elliot tells you that you have to sit five feet away from all of them with nothing between you but maybe a sheriff's deputy…oh, but he says not to worry, he's going to protect from all of them by himself._

Her stomach twisted so violently that she nearly heaved.

Thinking of herself that way shocked her. It would be literally like she had a target on her back and could only sit defenseless.

_Would __**you**__ feel safe if he was just sitting in the room telling you not to worry?_

Her breath caught and she nearly choked when tears rose quickly up the back of her throat. She painfully brought her arm down to slide around his waist and turned to hug him completely.

"Elliot," she whispered tearfully, barely able to speak. She shook her head, tenderly massaging the back of his neck as she swallowed and sniffled. "Brave, amazing Elliot." She pressed her nose against the side of his head affectionately, hugging his shoulders tighter. "I'm so lucky to have you. You're amazing, so amazing."

His head stayed down and she could still feel the defeat in his posture. It made her ache. Sniffling again, she kept on without pause.

"Look at what you're doing, Elliot," she said gently, rubbing one shoulder. "These men are going to _jail_ because of what you're doing…because of how incredibly brave you are. They'll never, ever hurt anyone again. Because of you…you're doing that." She shook her head again so he could feel her amazement and rubbed over his back again. "You're the strongest person I've ever known. I'm so lucky to be your partner."

She heard him inhale shakily and sniffle. His bowed head quivered slightly but he didn't look up.

The knock on the door made her glance away. Her lips pursed gently, Olivia leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek before gently releasing her hold on him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sighing with relief once she got back to her room, Maureen plopped down her backpack and turned on the light. The place was empty, which was a pleasant surprise. Not that she didn't like her roommate…but Becky took morning classes and as far as she knew, the girl didn't do anything with the rest of her day except hang out on her computer. Every time she happened to come in her roommate would be there, sitting at her desk with her laptop.

They were always polite to each other…but once in a while it didn't hurt to be alone. Maureen certainly never complained when the rare occasion presented itself.

She had considered going through and re-reading her chemistry lecture from the morning as she'd walked back to the dorm. Science had never been her favorite and she found that trying to pay attention during class took real effort. There was sure to be a quiz coming up soon; it would be wise to make sure she was on top of the material.

But instead she walked right past the full backpack without pausing and climbed onto her bed. Her thoughts weren't on school, not at all. They hadn't been all day.

It was Thursday. Today her dad would be traveling to Buffalo to testify in court about being kidnapped.

She felt the familiar, crushing weight squeeze her heart and had to breathe deeply a few times to overcome it.

Having her father taken from her was the worst experience of her entire life, even over her parents separating. Just the feeling…that feeling of sickening dread when it first sank in what was actually happening, that at the very moment she was being taught hyperboles and statistical formulas her dad could be getting tortured.

She felt tears stinging her eyes and they were pooling before she knew it.

They had him back…thank God Almighty, he was back and safe….but still, she just couldn't get the nagging feeling out of her head. Something was off, not right. Her dad was there…but yet he wasn't.

He was different now. He seemed unsure, timid even, and it was so unsettling. It wasn't the same man who used to look under her bed for monsters and lift her onto his shoulders in the pool….who would always peek into their rooms late at night before going to bed and look so big, so protecting in the shadow of the doorway and make her feel so blissfully safe.

Her mother had told them that he didn't want them to come there to be with him during the trial. She had asked her to come home that weekend, though, because she said she planned to go up there on Friday to help out for the duration of his stay.

Later on that night, when she was getting ready to go back to campus, Maureen had asked her mother privately if she would be at the trial.

Kathy had replied that she didn't know.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Okay," Kathy said pleasantly, shutting the back passenger door of Olivia's car. "Is that everything?"

Olivia was in the front, stretching between the driver and passenger seats as she struggled to position the small cooler on the floor by the console. At the other woman's words, she lifted herself up slightly so she could see around the seats and out the back door to where Kathy stood.

"I think so," she said, scanning over the backseat. Her suitcase was on the floor, his suitcase next to it, and a duffle bag of toiletries and medicine was on the seat next to pillows she had taken from her bed because she hated the ones in hotel rooms. It looked like everything was there. She nodded. "Looks good."

Backing out of the passenger door again, Olivia climbed over Elliot's pillow and a few blankets she had placed in the seat. She turned toward where he was sitting in the wheelchair, where the two of them had insisted he stay comfortably while they packed the car, and gestured toward the items.

"You want these up here with you?" she asked.

He considered it for a moment, looking at them. He nodded.

She nodded in reply and began situating them so they would be out of the way when he sat down. Kathy came up behind the chair and pushed it closer to the open door. Her hand came down to Elliot's cheek gently, causing him to look away from watching his partner to gaze up at her.

Smiling weakly, the blonde rubbed her thumb across day-old stubble. "You ready?" she asked quietly.

He stared at her silently, his blue eyes seeming to almost shine. She took a deep breath to keep back tears as all of the emotions came over her face that she couldn't bring herself to say out loud but desperately hoped he could feel.

_I know. I'm scared for you too, Elliot. It's okay._

_I'm here for you. I hope you know nothing will ever change that. You always were my best friend…you know me better than I know myself._

_I love you. _

Olivia came up behind the chair beside her. "Are we ready?" she asked gently. Kathy was trying to hide the look in her eyes but she knew that the other woman was hurting for him. She smiled at her sympathetically with understanding and then looked at Elliot, trying to give her space to compose herself. "We need to get going…your appointment is at 11:00."

Thankful for the opportunity, Kathy turned away quickly and discreetly felt at her eyes to make sure no moisture had escaped. Olivia pushed the wheelchair closer to the open car door and waited for her to step back around to them.

"Alright," Olivia said, crouching slightly and planting her feet. She looked to Kathy to see if she was ready and the other woman nodded. She looked at her partner and gripped the sides of the chair, smiling reassuringly. "Ready?"

Elliot inhaled, holding back a frustrated breath and positioned his body rigidly up off of the back of the chair. He waited until he felt Olivia's arms around his waist and then pressed his good hand into the side of the chair for leverage, nodding.

His partner began lifting him around the middle, beneath his sore ribs, and he struggled to push as much as his weight forward as he could so that she wouldn't have to take it. He was aware of his wife standing at his side when her hands came around his bicep to help him up.

He was dismayed by how little exertion it took before he felt his muscles quivering and was unprepared by how much pain it caused his ribs to support himself. He found himself involuntarily sagging in Olivia's grip and forcing her to do most of the work until he was shakily standing up.

Kathy was at his side instantly with her arm around his back, supporting him as Olivia did the same on the other side while keeping her other arm still around his waist. His steps were stiff, shaky, and fearfully light from the anticipation of impending pain. He didn't realize that the two women were taking all of his weight so that he could take the few steps to the car.

Once they got him into the passenger seat, Olivia nodded at Kathy appreciatively. "Thanks," she said. "I can get it from here. Why don't you go ahead and fold up the chair? I can put it in the backseat."

The blonde nodded in agreement and backed out from inside the door. She wheeled the chair back to have more room and then began trying to figure out the complicated folded mechanisms.

Olivia pulled the seatbelt out enough for slack and held it out in front of him so he could take it from her, trying to smile confidently for him. She knew he was frustrated and embarrassed at not being able to move around on his own and she hurt for him. He took it with his hand and struggled to bring it across his body, the process slow and painstaking.

She had to consciously keep still to fight the instinct to jump in and do it for him. Once he was buckled, she tenderly rubbed his shoulder and backed out to close the door.

When she turned around, Kathy was manhandling the wheelchair in frustration and she couldn't help but smile.

"Here," Olivia said in amusement, hurrying to her. "Let me help."

The blonde smiled sheepishly. "Thanks," she replied, assisting as Olivia collapsed and folded the chair.

She stepped back and let her lift it into the backseat of her car before clearing her throat awkwardly. "Oh, and uh…" She hesitantly indicated what she had found in the seat of the chair while trying to fold it. "Does this….?"

Olivia smiled and she returned it, holding out the stuffed rabbit expectantly.

"I'll take it," the detective said warmly, her eyes twinkling. "That goes in the front seat."

Kathy chuckled lightly, nodding, and then it became slightly awkward as they both stood facing each other uncertainly.

"So…" Kathy attempted to break it first. "Um…how long until you think you'll be on the road?'

Olivia considered it, wrinkling her nose a little. "Well," she said thoughtfully, pursing her lips slightly. "His doctor is seeing him at 11:00….and then he's got an appointment with Doctor Olivet at 12:45. So…I'm hoping we can be on our way out by 2:00." Her face displayed disdain for a moment. "We're not going to be able to avoid rush hour, though, unfortunately. Hopefully it won't be too bad up there."

The other woman nodded. She looked a little nervous and it came as a surprise.

"Ok," Kathy said. She swallowed. "Well, um…will-will you call me when you get to the hotel? Just…so I'll know you got there alright?"

Olivia nodded immediately. "Of course," she said, her tone suggesting that she wouldn't think of not doing it. She bit her lip slightly. "Will I…be seeing you tomorrow?"

Her voice had lowered and it didn't go unnoticed. Kathy glanced toward the front of the car in concern, her face empathetic. Olivia knew that the other woman wanted to go to Buffalo because she had told her the night before. Elliot didn't. He had been persistently making it known that he didn't want his family there.

Kathy wasn't trying to go against his wishes…she wasn't going to be in the courtroom. But she also didn't want Olivia to have to take care of everything by herself. It wasn't fair to her…she wanted to help as much as possible.

She pressed her lips together and glanced toward the front again, her eyes darting back to meet Olivia's.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She hadn't slept well and it showed….she was almost afraid people were going to trip over the bags under her eyes as she walked through the courthouse doors.

Casey checked her watch as she headed toward the café. According to Cragen, Munch and Fin were expected to be arriving sometime within the next two hours or so. She sincerely hoped that she would be back at the hotel long before then.

It took her a minute once she stepped through the small doorway of the restaurant to spot him, but eventually she saw Haskins at a table near the back. He attempted to stand politely as she walked up but she quickly pulled out her chair and sat down to thwart him. She saw his disconcerted scowl but at the moment, she frankly didn't care. She wanted to get it over with as soon as humanly possible.

"Casey, would you like to order?" he asked. His polite tone made her look at him suspiciously. He obviously thought she was implying something else because he was quick to add, "My treat, of course."

She continued to look at him guardedly. "No," she said, shaking her head curtly. She pulled her briefcase up onto her lap and opened it, taking out files to get right to business. "Here's a copy of the police reports and witness statement…" She began laying them on the table as she spoke. "Here is-"

"Whoa, Novak-whoa," Dwight said in disconcertion, forced to lift his arms when the documents began crowding over his side of the table. He held out his hands in surrender. "Let's eat first, huh?" He signaled for a waiter. "I can't work without something in my gut."

Casey gritted her teeth. "Dwight-" she said warningly.

The waiter appeared then, cutting her off. "Good morning, folks," he said pleasantly, opening his notepad. "Can I start you off with some coffee?" He smiled at her.

She shook her head in protest, looking back at the other attorney. "Dwight, I really-"

"I'll have one, yes," Haskins cut in, nodding to the waiter. "Black, please." He scanned the menu for a minute as the waiter scribbled on the pad. "As wells as…two eggs, poached, side of home fries and bacon, and light toast."

The waiter looked at her questioningly but she quickly shook her head. "Nothing, thank you," she said, knowing her annoyance bled into her voice.

The waited walked away and she pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow dangerously. "I'd kind of like get things done quick, if it's all the same to you," she said with deliberate evenness.

Dwight stared at her, his face straight, and nodded. "I agree," he said, much to her surprise. "Let's make it short and sweet."

She looked at him, slightly taken aback, but felt her face relaxing. She reached for the files again. "Great," she said, opening the folder. "Why don't we-"

"_After_…

His tone made her look up and her eyes narrowed when she saw his face. She would swear she saw a hint of an amused twinkle in his eyes.

….we have breakfast," he finished.

He smiled smugly and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his belly patiently to make his point clear in case she should miss it. He was going to make her wait just because he could.

She wanted to reach over and knock his chair to the floor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Beep._

"Alrighty…"

Doctor Amanda Murden smiled kindly as she reached to take the thermometer from Elliot's lips. He swallowed and sighed uncomfortably in the silence as she was busy studying the display screen.

The doctor looked back at him with a bright smile. "98.65," she reported pleasantly, nodding. "Perfect temperature."

He didn't look at her. Next to the exam table, in the chair provided, Olivia bit her lip nervously and met the woman's eyes hesitantly. She hoped the doctor wasn't offended by his stiff demeanor…it was obvious he was uncomfortable and nervous. He hadn't spoken to the doctor at all since she had come in other than a few one-word replies when absolutely necessary.

The homely brown-haired doctor's expression was friendly and warm back at her. She continued speaking to him pleasantly without hardly pausing.

"Okay," she said. She reached down by her feet and they heard paper rustling. "Elliot, I'm going to need you to put this on for me so I can do an examination of your genitals." Her tone was professional. "You can leave on an undershirt if you're wearing one because it might be cold, but you need to remove your underwear, please."

Olivia could see the look of dread in his eyes and figured the other woman could too. She was extremely grateful for the doctor's candor and decorum as she stepped back.

"Go ahead and get changed," she said, nodding, "and I'll be back in a few minutes."

Doctor Murden looked over at her for a moment. Olivia figured the doctor would normally have asked if he wanted her to leave as well, but she knew the circumstances and wouldn't try to make things more uncomfortable. She smiled again and then stepped from the room, closing the door to leave them alone.

Olivia took a deep breath and rose gracefully to her feet, coming towards the table.

"Want me to help you?" she asked quietly, making sure not to move to do so.

His face was agitated. He squirmed anxiously and slid back, making the paper sheet he was sitting on crinkle loudly. "I don't want to do this part," he said nervously.

She looked at him gently and pursed her lips carefully. "I know, honey," she said painfully, keeping her voice soft. "But it's the only way to see how well you're healing." She smiled hopefully. "Don't you want to know?"

Elliot looked away. She could see his twisted expression and it killed her inside.

"I don't want to do it," he whispered again.

Breathing out tearfully, Olivia moved closer beside him and put her arm around him to draw herself against him in a gentle hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said softly. "I don't want you to have to, either." She exhaled again and rubbed his shoulder absently. "So let's both be brave for each other right now, ok? Will that be alright?"

He looked at her in despair. She hugged him close again.

"Let's get you ready," she continued calmly, nodding at him, "and then when it's time to do the exam, I want you to hold my hand really tight and squeeze as hard as you can until she's done…will you do that for me?"

His face didn't change from it's dreadful expression. He shook his head in reluctance and hung his head. She backed away carefully and waited. He didn't say anything, but after a few moments he slid back against the edge of the table and reached for the paper gown.

She let him take charge and didn't try to do anything for him. It was a struggle watching him persistently labor to get one arm through the sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt but she knew he desperately needed to feel some sort of self-sufficiency. She quietly unstrapped the sling for him and gently helped move his hurt arm through the other sleeve.

She held out the gown for him once his torso was bare and he carefully directed his arms through the sleeves. Then he hesitated, letting the material hang loosely against his sweatpants, and looked back up at her.

"Turn around," he said.

His entire midsection was covered now by the thin paper and hung all the way almost to his knees….she wasn't able to see anything except his sweatpants-covered calves. It didn't matter, and she knew it never did. Even in the mornings when she helped him get dressed, he forbid her to come into the room until he had struggled to get his boxers on and always made her turn her back as he pulled pants on over them.

She turned to face the door easily without hesitation. A minute passed and then paper was rustling. She could hear his laboring breaths as he fought to wiggle the sweatpants and boxer shorts around his hips with one hand and she had to close her eyes.

_No crying, Benson. _

After another few minutes a weary breath exploded behind her. "Alright," he finally said.

Olivia turned back towards him to see him looking away from her. The gown was still in place but now she could see the pants bunching around his knees. She quietly nodded and reached down to pull them gently the rest of the way until both they and the boxers landed in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and laid them down over his shirt on her chair.

The silence was deafening as they waited for the doctor to return. He kept his eyes focused on a picture hanging on the wall beside him.

A soft knock came on the door and then a moment of hesitation before the woman peeked her head in. "Are you ready?" she asked.

Olivia looked to Elliot but he said nothing, not even turning. She nodded at the doctor dutifully. The woman stepped inside and shut the door again, smiling.

"Okay, Elliot," she said, standing beside the counter and scribbling something on her clipboard. "Go ahead and lie back…nice and flat for me."

His gaze came back to Olivia then and she recognized the anxiety on his face. She tried to smile as reassuringly as she could while coming to his side to help.

"Go on," she said soothingly, gently cradling his shoulders with one arm while holding his good hand to help him balance.

He grimaced as he painfully began scooting slowly with his hips. His ribs screamed almost immediately and made his breathing short. Olivia tried to take as much of the strain from him as possible, relieved when he finally was able come down all the way.

His sigh was nervous as he lay vulnerably on the table, cold air seeping through the thin paper gown like it wasn't even there…he didn't have on an undershirt. He was so rigid that his back was slightly arching upward.

His partner came up beside his head and was reaching down to pull his hand into both of hers before he knew it. She squeezed it firmly and nodded to remind him of her words, her face warm and sad at the same time.

The doctor came up on his other side, leaning slightly over so he could see her face. She smiled at him reassuringly. "That's good," she said. "Jus like that. I'll try to be as fast as possible but I need you to stay absolutely still for me. Ok?"

He nodded stiffly and felt Olivia squeeze his hand again. "Keep your eyes on me," she said softly. "Just keep your eyes on me and hold on nice and tight….just like we said, right?"

His heart pounded so rapidly that it made him feel light-headed. He attempted to draw a breath and heard the air quivering through his teeth. His hands shook and he couldn't do anything about it.

The woman took her penlight and began scanning over the sutures lining the urethra and upper pelvic region. They were bright red and inflamed, sure signs of soon falling out. She nodded in satisfaction and gently began running her gloved fingers along the testicles

But before she could get her penlight back in position, the muscles contracted and the incision trail disappeared. She bit her lip and frowned slightly as she was forced to pull back to speak to him.

Olivia could feel his hand sweating in hers. He made a small groaning sound through clenched teeth and an expression of pure misery overtook his face. Her heart broken, she tried to soothingly rub her fingers along the outside of his hand.

"You're tensing," the doctor said, softly scolding but not harsh. He felt pressure on the insides of both of his thighs. "Elliot, I need you to relax, please… stay all the way flat."

Olivia realized that he was arching again and this time his back was coming up off of the table. Biting her lip and hating herself, she gently had to force his hand out of hers and place her palms on his shoulders to move him back down again.

"Relax, sweetheart," she said painfully, feeling his straining against her. "Please, Elliot…you have to stay flat."

He whimpered again and it was audible this time, his face threatening to completely cave in. She stroked his forehead and took his hand immediately again once he had obeyed.

"You're doing great," she whispered lovingly. Her fingers were being crushed. "That's it, sweetie…you're doing wonderful."

The exam in itself took less than four minutes but every miserable sound coming from Elliot made it feel to Olivia like it was taking years. She was so close to tears by the time it was done that she thought she wouldn't be able to hold them.

"Okay," Doctor Murden breathed warmly. She mercifully backed away. "Thank you, Elliot. We're done, you can sit up now."

It took a few moments and Olivia kept hold of his hand while he remained flat, praising and reassuring him quietly. He finally moved and let her help him sit back upright.

"Alright," the doctor said, taking the clipboard back again. "From what I can see, it looks like you've still got some stitches along the testicles and penis that are being stubborn…most of them have fallen but there are still a few in there that are probably causing you some pain." She looked at him sympathetically. "Are you experiencing a lot of pain in those areas, Elliot?"

He nodded but didn't elaborate. She slowly nodded, her expression encouraging him to say more.

"Well…how much?" she asked kindly with an open face. "Does it happen often?"

He looked uncomfortably toward Olivia and bit his lip, his face averting. "Uh-huh," he mumbled awkwardly. "Like….like every day."

She nodded. "Oh…okay," she said compassionately. "What about when you use the bathroom…is it difficult to urinate or burn when you try to go?"

His face flushed and he dipped his head even lower. His nod was barely perceptible. Olivia felt horrible for him, knowing it must have been humiliating.

"Does anywhere else hurt?" she continued. "How about your lower belly…is it comfortable when you walk?"

He was silent. Olivia felt her heart sink and she closed her eyes in shame for a moment. The doctor looked to her after another minute, puzzled.

"We…he actually hasn't really been walking," she confessed, biting her lip regretfully. "I-I have him use the wheelchair any time he has to move inside the house because I'm afraid he'll hurt himself."

The other woman nodded sympathetically. "I understand," she said compassionately. She looked back to Elliot. "If it makes you comfortable, there's no problem keeping off your feet…your body's been through a lot, I understand that. But if you ever do want to try, please…I encourage it."

She smiled. "You won't be running marathons anytime soon, but those sore muscles down there need to be stretched again so that you won't have trouble later on down the road if you decide you don't want to use the chair anymore."

Olivia felt her heart slam into her chest again.

"Even not walking," Doctor Murden continued, as if she had never stopped, "do you have any pain in the lower pelvic region when you're sitting?" At his nod, she prodded, "What kind of pain is it…is it like stinging, or is worse?"

Olivia looked at him sympathetically for a moment before averting her gaze. She knew what his answer would be. Usually at some point almost every day it would get so bad that he was reduced to tears, even after having taken medication.

He shook his head and swallowed. "No…worse," he said softly. "It starts out kind of like a cramp and just keeps getting worse until I almost have to bend over just to breathe without hurting."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "How often do you feel this?" she asked.

He stared at the floor bleakly. "Sometimes three, four times a day," he answered quietly.

His partner couldn't stop the startled look from crossing her face but was quick to look away so he wouldn't see it.

She'd had no idea it happened so often. She knew that sometimes she'd see it twice in a day but always figured he would tell her when he was in pain.

Her heart twisted.

_Oh, man…God, he must be so miserable. Why aren't I watching more closely for these kinds of things?_

The doctor made a note on her paper. "Is it ever anywhere else, or is it just in the abdomen?"

Elliot shook his head meaningfully. "It's…it's all over," he said awkwardly, looking ashamed. His face flushed again as he looked to the floor. "Down…down-you know."

She nodded. "Okay," she said, smiling sympathetically. "Thank you, Elliot…thank you very much for being so honest with me."

He didn't look up or speak and she pursed her lips empathetically. Then she turned her gaze toward Olivia and spoke more professionally.

"How long has it been since the surgeries were performed?" she asked.

The question caught her unprepared. The detective found herself having to reach way back into areas of her brain that she didn't want to remember.

"Um…" The words the captain had said to her the day before suddenly popped into her head. "December. December….14th, I believe…either the 13th or the 14th."

The doctor pursed her lips in concentration, flipping a few pages back on the clipboard. "So we're looking at about seven and a half weeks," she said quietly, sounding more like she was speaking to herself. "The medications that the surgeon sent home with you…"

She recited them from the page she had been looking for, looking back up between them. "Are you still on the full doses?" Olivia nodded when he didn't reply. "How many refills have you had since they were prescribed?"

The detective paused, visibly startled when she realized it. "Three," she said, sounding surprised. "I've had to get three of them."

Doctor Murden nodded firmly. "Alright," she said seriously. "So something definitely is not going the way it's supposed to if it's been that long and you're still in need of such strong medication just to be able to function."

She looked at Elliot sympathetically again.

"Pain as severe as you've been having should only have lasted around two weeks, maybe three weeks given such major surgery," she explained. "Now, I understand that you had multiple other injuries and complications besides just those in the reproductive organs, but even those shouldn't have affected things this long. You should have been ready for lower doses very soon after your release from the hospital."

Olivia could see his shoulders becoming tense as he continued to stare at the floor and she knew he was getting scared…so was she. She swallowed.

"So are you saying something is wrong?" she asked nervously. "Will he be able to heal?"

"The testicular trauma appears to still be in need of attention," the doctor replied. "Judging from the state of the left one, you'll either have to talk with a reconstructive surgeon very soon or prepare for amputation."

Bile rose up the back of Olivia's throat. She literally felt her heart stop and she knew the blood was rushing from her face.

She'd never told him.

Jesus Christ. No one had ever remembered to tell him about Doctor Beck's warning in Buffalo, urging them about making sure he knew about making the decision regarding the organs.

_Oh my God._

"But what you're talking about," Doctor Murden kept on, "this kind of pain that you're having…I believe you may have adhesions and that's what's making it so miserable for you." She looked between them again as she explained. "Basically what happens is that after a surgery, scar tissue around the area of incision can become irritated and form a thin band, almost like an adhesive, around the incision site. Normally they aren't a problem, but sometimes they can cause organs as they heal to no longer be able slide against each other and make them get stuck, which would cause major problems in the organ's ability to function."

Her face softened empathetically.

"What might be happening is that the adhesion has formed among your reproductive organs, mainly the scrotum and vas deferens," she said. "So what results is chronic, excruciating pain along those areas and the protective barriers like the pelvis."

Olivia was listening intently, disturbed. "Can it be fixed?" she asked in alarm.

The woman's expression of regret made her stomach turn.

"Well, it is possible for a surgeon to go in and cut away the adhesive band causing the obstruction," she said. "But unfortunately, once they develop, the adhesions don't go away. Even if removed, you'd maybe have a month of relief before they reformed all over again."

She pursed her lips compassionately, seeing Olivia's expression of despair and Elliot's head hung down.

"That's a big step," she said, "and surgeries are very costly. Even if you were to have one, you'd need to keep getting them if you wanted any kind of relief. Medicine is being created to try and help combat the pain for victims of this disorder, but unfortunately, it's so hard to treat that most doctors don't know what to prescribe."

Her eyes went back to Olivia grimly before returning to Elliot's form.

"My suggestion is to keep a heating pad nearby for when the pain starts to arise," she went on. "Applying heat to the area of infection slows down the nerve endings, so they won't be as sharp and repetitive."

Her voice became tinged with regret. "Elliot, I know taking medication probably makes you feel good, but taking them with such frequency like this runs a really great risk of an addiction. With everything you have to endure, I would hate to see you unintentionally causing more harm."

Her eyes shifted to Olivia. "As much as it's going to be hard, I really need for you to start weaning him away from so many doses," she said. She looked back to him. "Your body's become so dependent that it's not able to self-heal…it needs to get back it's immunity."

Lips set gently, Doctor Murden scribbled on her papers.

"So I'd like you to start cutting back daily," she instructed. "Save the medication for when he feels the pain is absolutely so unbearable that nothing can help, and try out the heating pad for a little while to see if it makes things easier." She smiled gently. "I'll see you again in about a week or so, and then we can talk about if we need to try something else."

The finality in her tone told them that the visit was over. Olivia automatically walked toward her as the woman got up from the stool she had been sitting on and held out her hand.

"Go ahead and make another appointment with the front desk to come back no later than two weeks from today," Doctor Murden said and Olivia nodded. She smiled. "You can get back dressed now, Elliot…thank you. Take care and I'll see you in a few weeks."

She left the room and silence suddenly made Olivia's ears ring.

Neither of them moved. It took her several seconds to realize that she was just standing there and to shake herself.

"Oh…here, I'll help you," she said numbly, automatically going to his side again to help him get the gown back off.

She was in a complete fog. She wasn't even sure if Elliot said anything and knew that her hands were moving without assistance from her consciousness.

She just couldn't stop the feeling of dread that was weighing on her.

This was just the first stop and already they were being shaken. Thinking of how it compared to what was to come made her weak inside.

It didn't even come close.


	60. Chapter 60

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

The radio was turned on to a very low volume, not enough to be disturbing but just enough to provide some kind of stimulation other than the silence. She just couldn't take it anymore.

Olivia sighed quietly and shifted again, wiggling slightly in the seat and readjusting her hands on the steering wheel in a vain attempt to get comfortable. It just didn't seem to want to happen.

Considering they had only been driving for a little over thirty minutes, she decided that wasn't a good sign. She could feel the beginnings of knots in her back already…it made her cringe to think of how she was going to feel after four hours.

She knew that it wasn't just the quiet that was making her tense.

The last time she had heard Elliot speak was right as they had been pulling into the parking lot of the building where Doctor Olivet's office was, and it had only been to quietly ask if she minded turning the heat down in the car when they left. It had made her feel horrible and yet almost amused at the same time as she had told him that of course she didn't.

_Why didn't he say something sooner? I'd turn on the damn __**air conditioner**__ right now in the middle of February if he wanted me to. _

_Why doesn't he know that?_

Something had happened during his visit with the doctor. She had no idea what, Elizabeth hadn't said a word about it. But seeing the evidence of tears drying on his face when they had come out of the office combined with the fact that they had ended the session twenty minutes earlier than normal gave her the sickening feeling that something hadn't gone as planned.

And now they were just sitting, an awkwardness surrounding them like a tangible force field. He was turned toward the window silently watching the passing trees lining the side of the interstate as they flew by them and she was staring ahead at the road with the car on cruise control feeling like every breath she took was echoing through a bullhorn.

So she figured listening to the radio sounded like a better alternative.

As she took her eyes carefully off of the road to scan the station buttons, her arm brushed against where the rabbit had been haphazardly pushed down near Elliot's thigh and was dangling so close to falling to the floor that it looked like miracle of science was keeping it there. It surrendered to gravity, tumbling to the floor headfirst and coming to rest on the plastic mat facedown.

Olivia glanced at him as she pulled her arm away. He didn't even blink from where he still stared outside. Biting her lip slightly, she waited a few moments and continued flipping channels until she found one that sounded favorable.

Her hand left the buttons and she leaned slightly over, her fingers grazing over the pleasantly soft fur until she got a grip on it. She brought it back upright and turned it around, looking at it with a soft smile.

Pretending to ignore the way he was discreetly now glancing toward her, she moved the rabbit away from where it had been to sit it right on top of the cooler between them. She bounced it a few times gently, making the ears flop, and she smiled again as she arranged them so that they were cheerfully fluffing out instead of hanging like normal.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The stark transition of temperature as he stepped from the warm hotel lobby out into the cold winter air made John feel almost like he was suffocating for a few seconds. He inhaled deeply and expelled slowly, watching his breath as if the visible condensation was smoke as he ambled out toward the side yard.

Casey had been working with both he and Fin individually for about an hour each before she had abruptly decided they needed a break. She suggested getting everyone together for lunch since they were all in the same place anyway and had called Cragen and Melinda Warner to offer them the same idea.

Fin had agreed and they had all planned to meet in the lobby of the hotel, but once they had gotten to the ground floor John had begged off to go out for a walk instead. He had told them he wasn't hungry. It wasn't a lie. He had no appetite at all.

John stopped once he reached the small gate that served as the entrance to the hotel swimming pool and leaned his arms against the ornate iron swirls. He stared at the huge tank, drained empty for the season and covered by a thick black tarp secured with rope, and let his gaze wander to the folded up lounge chairs and patio tables with closed umbrellas. His breath blew out in a deep sigh from his knotted stomach.

Though cognitively aware that the probability was very likely that his little incident with Jason Evans was going to be brought up during the trials, for some reason it hadn't really sunk in until Casey had mentioned just how important it was during their practicing.

After all, the bastard _had _given a point-blank confession and admitted it was him who had gone toe-to-toe with Elliot before the whole nightmare even began.

It did a whole hell of a lot for their case, but unfortunately, not a lot for John's emotional state. It hurt enough that he was going to be reminded yet again of how just how big a role he had played in what had happened…the thought of Elliot having to be in the room listening to it killed him.

He closed his eyes and leaned further forward until the iron was forced to take his weight, hanging his head.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Blowing through her cheeks, she shuffled the papers into a neat stack and laid them back into the folder. Her phone rang as she was getting up to take them to the cabinet.

"Elizabeth Olivet," she answered kindly.

"Doctor Olivet," the voice of her receptionist rang through the receiver. "Sorry…but could you come out here for a minute, please? Someone is here to speak with you."

The young woman sounded hesitant. Elizabeth's brows furrowed but she answered quickly.

"Of course," she replied. "I'll be right there."

She placed the phone back in the cradle and got up, smoothing out her skirt as she opened the door. When she stepped through into the receptionist's office, the young woman looked at her apologetically, obviously feeling bad for having to call her out. She nodded toward the window.

Elizabeth followed her eyes to see a man dressed in a black suit standing near the desk, arms folded across his chest loosely. He looked average and unfamiliar, nothing striking about him as far as her trained eye could observe.

But what did immediately strike her attention was what she saw him holding in his left hand. The bright blue of the pamphlet made it unquestionable.

Her eyes closed for a moment and she found herself praying with every fiber inside of her for it not to be for what she was thinking it was for. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head higher and walked out into the waiting area.

The man straightened upon seeing her, his face inquisitive.

"Elizabeth Olivet?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes?" she replied coolly, nodding.

He cocked an eyebrow and extended the document toward her with a small smile playing on his lips. "You've been served," he said.

Her jaw twitched as she eyed him, her displeasure obvious as she took the subpoena from his hand. He nodded without another word and left the office so quickly that he almost seemed to vanish into thin air.

The lobby was empty and she let her scowl go free as she stood still and unfolded the document.

**Docket Number 10-2343**

**Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas, Jeffrey Pendleton**

**v.**

**The state of New York**

**SUBPOENA (Duces Tecum)**

**Under the authority of **

**New York revised statutes 41-1092.07 (C)**

**To: Name: **** Doctor Elizabeth Olivet**

**Address: ****Manhattan Psychiatric Center**

**600 East 125****th**** Street**

**New York, NY 10035-6098**

**You are commanded to ATTEND a hearing in this matter at the time, date, and location below and to remain until excused:**

**Date: ****January 26, 2007**

**Time: ****9:00 AM**

**Location: ****Buffalo City Court**

**50 Delaware Avenue**

**Buffalo, NY 14202**

**You are commanded to PRODUCE documents and other tangible items for the above entitled matter, specifically: (describe items)**

**Mental health records, diagnoses concerning previous mental state, diagnoses concerning present mental state, records of medication distribution (prescription only)**

**Pertaining to: Name: ****Elliot Stabler **

**For the hearing listed above OR (if another date other than the hearing) then on or before **** 20 **** at (location): **

**DATED this ****25**** day of ****January,**** 20****07**

**Warren J. Varella**

**Administrative Law Judge**

**AT THE REQUEST OF: ****Dwight Haskins, Counselor-at-Law**

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A strange noise softly blended in with the light sounds coming from the radio. She didn't even notice it at first.

Then she heard it once more. Crinkling her face slightly, Olivia forced herself to concentrate on ignoring the radio and strained her ears to listen for the sound again.

She waited a few moments and then the sound abruptly came. A smile spread across her face and she glanced over to the passenger seat, realizing immediately what it was.

A few minutes earlier, Elliot had tugged a blanket across himself awkwardly to cover his arms and most of his chest. The material had bunched messily to leave almost his entire side exposed and he was leaned against the doorframe facing away from her.

She didn't even know when he had fallen asleep but it was obvious that right now he was completely out. He snored again and she stifled a giggle, the affectionate smile widening as she turned back toward the road.

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"Chow time," a voice suddenly boomed abruptly, making him jump. He heard a loud tapping echo off of the walls. "Let's go."

Lost in thought, Jesse didn't realize how much time had passed and hearing the announcement for dinner startled him. A burly guard appeared before his cell, tapping his nightstick against the bars loudly. He winced.

"Dinner, Madison," he said curtly as he unlocked the cell.

Jesse swallowed weakly. His stomach was churning.

"I'm…I'm not hungry," he said, shaking his head.

The guard looked at him in disgust, loudly sliding open the door. "Did it sound like I was asking?" he said rudely, pointing his nightstick at him and waving it upright. "Move it."

He sighed in frustration but reluctantly pushed away from where he was leaned against the wall and slid off of the bed. He shuffled past the guard begrudgingly to trail after the others filing toward the cafeteria.

He filed down the line automatically to receive the sandwich, bag of chips, and canned fruit that served as the night's meal without really noticing anything that was placed on his tray. He picked up a can of juice at the end of the line and numbly walked out toward the tables.

He immediately noticed EJ and Jason sitting at one of them, boring holes into him with their eyes. He uncomfortably tried to ignore their glares as he walked toward a table on the other side of the room.

He stopped short when he encountered Matt, Jeff, and John sitting at a table on that side. Their expressions were mutinous as their eyes followed his every move.

Feeling his throat closing, Jesse quickly turned around and almost bumped smack into Bowman. Travis came up right behind him. The big man stood still and sneered at him, blocking his path, and he felt his heart start to race.

A guard whistled from somewhere on the other side of the room and he looked over desperately. The man looked at them threateningly and placed his hand warningly on his nightstick in case they had missed the message.

Travis and James rolled their eyes at the guard and sneered at him, stepping aside after another moment. Travis cut his eyes at him in deadly intention as they moved toward the table where the other three were sitting.

A guard suddenly was in front of him, making him start. "Find a seat and sit down," he ordered harshly.

His hands trembling slightly, Jesse swallowed and gripped the tray tighter. He shakily walked back toward the line, looking around blearily. The only empty table left was next to the trashcans, the one everyone avoided because most of the trash always ended up there when people missed the can. He could already see some scattered on it.

He walked to it and sat down.

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"_You look tired, Elliot." Doctor Olivet's voice floated soft and concerned. "How are you feeling today?" _

_He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. "Fine," he quickly. "Just didn't get a lot of sleep last night." _

"_Why not?" _

_The memory of the nightmare that had awakened him early that morning made his skin feel clammy and his throat began to close._

_He didn't understand. He usually couldn't remember any of them once he woke up…he usually couldn't even remember being __**woken **__up by them in the first place until the next day when he would find Olivia with him in the room and knowing she hadn't been there when he'd gone to bed. _

_But this one…this one still remembered with shocking clarity. All it took was one moment of drifting thoughts and suddenly the image of those men with that bat…it was as real as if he was right back in those horrifying seconds all over again._

Blue eyes darted behind lids closed tight as his brain fired and sparked excitedly in his slumber.

_He trembled and swallowed tearfully, dazed and in pain, as his body tried to make sense of what had just happened. His mind was numb, unable to process the violation or realize it was there at all. _

_Gagging, he arched upright against the bonds and felt some of the bile push out into the cloth to fill his taste buds with horrible bitterness._

_Weight slamming up against him made his heart jolt and the vomit flood back down his throat to choke him. His eyes flew wide as he gagged again in instinctive panic and he tried to work some of the cloth away without success. _

_The man's expression was twisted with such intense hatred that it made his eyes shine as he harshly leaned over to make him stare up into his face. One hand came down to grip his throat and made his eyes widen again._

"_Take a good look," the man spat out harshly at him. "You take a good motherfucking look at this face, you fucking pig scum." _

_He sneered and glared at him, pressing harder against his windpipe to make him suck in air reflexively in panic. _

"_Remember this face…it's going to be the last face you see before you burn in hell, asshole. I'm gonna __**personally**__-"__The word came out in a sudden bark and he jumped-"Deliver you." _

His relaxed face began scrunching. His heart was slamming against the wall of his chest and his adrenaline glands worked in overdrive as he breathed in and out.

"_Olivia…Olivia!"_

_No…no, she couldn't have-please, God, she couldn't have left. What if she left? _

_Her name came out in a sob this time as he clenched the blanket in his hand, the living room suddenly feeling huge and swallowing. His heart broke painfully as tears flooded his cheeks._

_**Please don't make me all alone again, God…please, please, I don't want to be all alone again!**_

"_Elliot." _

_Hearing her voice made his chest cave with relief but he struggled to reach for her anyway, not trusting his own ears. He had to make sure._

"_Elliot…"_

The gentle shaking rattled his brain and suddenly the image was gone. Her voice came again and was clearer suddenly, louder than he thought he'd heard.

"Hey…"

The feeling of shaking again was definitely cutting into the blissful comfort and his eyes immediately began opening. Disoriented and groggy, Elliot came into awareness to see Olivia gently rubbing his arm. His face puckered unhappily as his body began waking up despite his longing to stay asleep.

"Hey, there," she said, smiling. His eyes drooped again as her hand smoothed over his cheek and he inhaled, groaning softly as his neck began to make him remember where he had been sleeping. Her voice was soft and warm. "Time to wake up, sweet pea….we're here."

Inhaling and grimacing, Elliot reluctantly made himself sit upright. She huffed a quiet laugh as she watched him looking around wearily and trying to orient himself. It reminded her of those meerkat specials she saw on Animal Planet.

Stretching, Olivia unbuckled her seatbelt. "Here, tell you what," she said, leaning toward him. "You want to stay here while I go us check in? It'll only take a minute."

She was dismayed when she heard the slight sound of pleading in her voice, but she really was in favor the idea. It was freezing outside…the car had only been off about two minutes and already she could practically feel it seeping through the metal of the door. She was dreading stepping out in it. He could stay where he was warm and obviously comfortable, and she could inevitably get the check-in procedure done faster if she went by herself.

He glanced out the windows to see people everywhere, walking in and out of the entrance and around them. When he looked back at her, the expression on his face immediately told her it wasn't going to happen. Her stomach sank in disappointment but her face automatically smiled and she nodded easily.

"Okay," she said quickly, making sure her voice was bright. "Okay…that's fine, Elliot. It's fine, you don't have to." She reached over and gently unbuckled his seatbelt. "We'll both go…it'll be good to stretch a little bit." She smiled as she spoke, trying to make him not feel bad. "Come on."

She got out and locked the door before going across the front of the car to his side. He had managed to slide his arm over to unlatch the door by the time she got there and she pulled it open the rest of the way. He slowly turned himself to put his feet to the ground.

Olivia bit her lip for a moment and glanced behind her to the entranceway.

"Want me to get the chair?" she asked hesitantly. "Or…would you rather try to walk?"

Even as she was speaking, she couldn't stop her selfish side from screaming out inside.

_Chair…say chair. _Even though she agreed with the doctor that walking would be beneficial to him, the protective nature in her couldn't bear to think of him having to endure the stares inside as he attempted to use the muscles in his legs again.

He shook his head insistently, looking at her pleadingly. "No," he said. "No, I want to walk, Olivia…please can I walk?"

Hearing him requesting as if asking permission made her insides twist sharply and she had to blink back a sudden torrent of emotion. Swallowing, she bravely smiled and nodded tenderly.

"Sure," she said thickly, blinking rapidly. "Elliot, of course you can."

She smiled waveringly again and stooped slightly, offering her hand to help him up.

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The cold evening air swirled through her coat to make her shiver as she climbed the front steps. The motion sensor lamp lit up the porch brightly when she opened the glass door to her mother's home and Maureen shifted her overnight bag higher onto her shoulder, reaching for the doorknob of the wooden door. Her gloved hand slipped awkwardly as she twisted it to find it was locked.

She clenched her teeth in irritation and rang the doorbell three times impatiently, hopping back and forth to try and keep warm.

It was so miserably freezing that the few moments it took for her to hear movement from the other side felt like hours. When she heard the locks being unlatched from inside she immediately twisted the doorknob again and pushed through, startling her brother who had his hand on it from the other side.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Dude…hyper much?" he asked smartly as he moved to avoid being stampeded when she burst past him. "You only rang the doorbell fifteen times. You think we didn't hear you?"

Blowing out a breath with chattering teeth, the older girl pulled off her wool ski cap and shook out her hair. "_You_ go stand out there in the subzero temperatures, tough guy," she retorted, slightly breathless and her face pink from exposure. She pulled off her gloves and tossed them on top of the piano, setting her bag down on the floor with a _thump_. "See how you like it."

Dickie just rolled his eyes and walked back through the hallway, leaving Maureen alone in the foyer. She pulled off her coat and straightened her sweater as she picked up her gloves to carry both garments to the hall closet.

A peek into the living room found nobody there, but she could hear the television on in the kitchen. She walked further and stepped through the doorway to see her mother standing with her back to her at the counter beside the small TV, watching the evening news.

"Hey, Mom," she said, her boots clicking as she walked onto the tiled floor.

Kathy turned around and smiled. "Hi, sweetie," she replied pleasantly. She held her arm out for a hug, which her daughter obliged after a brief pause of uncertainty. "How'd your classes go today?"

Maureen shrugged. "Okay," she said as she pulled away. Her brow furrowed. "Did you get off early today?"

Her mother nodded. "I took a half day," she said. She smiled. "Have you eaten?" Maureen shook her head. "It's just you and me for dinner…Kat's staying the night over a friend's house, Liz is at a track meet…and your brother is waiting for a friend's mom to pick him up so they can go to the mall." She raised her eyebrows enticingly. "Want to order in?"

The young woman looked surprised. "Uh…sure," she said. She nodded. "Okay."

She turned toward the refrigerator and opened it, bending down to look for a can of soda. "Grab that menu," she heard her mom say from behind her. "I'll go ahead and call it in now once we know what we want."

Maureen took a Pepsi from the bottom shelf and closed the door, reaching for the Chinese menu hanging from a magnet near the dry-erase board. She saw that her mom was turned toward the television again, so she leaned back against the counter and thumbed through the pages.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked as she perused the choices.

Kathy turned around toward her. Her face had suddenly sobered. "I'm still deciding," she said. "I'm thinking maybe around eight or so…there's no telling how long they'll be in court, Olivia said sometimes it can go all afternoon." She shrugged. "Guess I'll find out once I get there…"

Her voice trailed off as she realized her daughter was suddenly looking down at the menu to purposely keep her from seeing her face, not that it did any good. The pain was easy to see even from the distance.

Kathy felt a pang in her heart when she recalled how Elliot always had done the same thing. The times when he allowed himself to be at his most vulnerable had been few and far between, but even when they occurred he would still always try his best to hide so she wouldn't see. She knew it made him think less of himself, made him think he was weak even when she tried so hard to get him to see how much she loved him for the man he was. Unfortunately it was a trait he had passed down to their oldest daughter as well.

"Maur," she said gently. Maureen clenched her teeth when she sensed her mother coming closer and whipped around quickly before she could reach her to turn her back. Kathy winced sympathetically, reaching her hand out to touch her hair. "Honey-"

"No, I'm fine," the young woman said in a rush, eliciting a fake laugh of embarrassment. She swiped a hand over her face at lightning speed and twisted out of her reach. "Really, Mom…don't."

Her mother wisely stood where she was, but the sympathetic look on her face made Maureen's blood boil irrationally.

"Sweetheart, I understand how hard this is," she said hoarsely. "You don't have to pretend with me, Maureen…it's okay to be upset. This is a tough situation."

_Tough situation?_ Maureen felt her pulse starting to throb and her fingers clenching as the emotions fired through her that she would never dare say. _**Tough situation**__, Mom? No, this is not a __**tough situation**__…this is pure hell and as a matter of fact you __**don't**__ understand. He's not your father._

She swallowed hard and put on her brightest mask of normalcy. "Yeah, I know it is, Mom," she choked out with a fake smile. "It's okay. You don't have to-let's just order dinner, okay?"

Kathy pursed her lips uncertainly, but it became apparent after a moment that her daughter was sticking to the lie.

Instead of pushing it, she just nodded and turned back to the news, allowing Maureen to retreat back to the menu and her thoughts.

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His phone rang as he was aiming the remote at the TV. Pressing the power button, he turned on the set and then dropped the control on the bed, leaning over to reach for the nightstand.

"Cragen," he answered.

"Hi…Captain?" The female voice wasn't one he immediately recognized. That and the hesitant tone made him instantly on guard. He straightened cautiously. "It's Elizabeth Olivet."

As soon as the words left her mouth, he _was_ able to recognize her voice and felt like a fool. "Oh, hello, Doctor," he said quickly. "Sorry, I didn't know who it was at first."

"It's alright," she replied easily, but he could tell right away that her voice was unnaturally strained. "I'm sorry, but I- um, I called the precinct and asked one of your detectives for your cell number…I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, no, Elizabeth," he said persistently. "It's alright, really…is everything alright? You sound a little…" He found himself trailing off awkwardly, not sure of the right word and not wanting to offend her. "I'm sorry-I just mean-"

Liz chuckled darkly at the irony of how easily she made it for others to interpret when she was upset.

"No, it's okay," she assured, shaking her head ruefully on the other end. "It's good that you were a detective, it saves me from having to pretend."

Cragen felt his stomach twist at her weak chuckle and her serious tone.

"My first thought was to call Olivia, but then I thought that I probably should contact the ADA first. Um, I-I don't really know her that well, I wasn't sure if she had a phone number so…I thought maybe you would know what I need to do."

Don's gut swirled even more. "About what?" he asked dreadfully.

She began explaining to him what had happened. He was so shocked that when she finished he was rendered speechless for a moment.

"Captain?" she asked hesitantly.

"Uh-yeah, sorry," he stammered. His mind was reeling. "Of course…I'll give you her number, sure." He thought quickly. "Would-would it be easier for me to call her and have her contact you?"

She hadn't really considered it, but once she did Elizabeth realized that would probably be better. "Um…sure," she said. "Sure, that will be fine." She hesitated uncertainly. "Um-I'll give you my office hours….whenever it's convenient for her is fine, I can work around my appointments-"

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Don hastened to interject, making her pause in surprise. "Don't change your schedule…I'll call her right now. She'll probably get to you in the next two minutes."

That caught her unexpected. "Really?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise. "I-I mean, it's not a problem, I don't mind waiting…"

"No," he said confidently. "Don't worry about it. I'll have her call you right back…it's no trouble."

There was a moment of stunned silence before she spoke. "Okay," she said. "Well…thank you, Captain. I appreciate it very much."

"You're welcome," he said, trying not to let his nerves show in his voice.

As soon as they hung up, his heart exploded into double time. Sucking in a breath anxiously, he scrolled through his contact list until Casey's number came up and pressed SEND.

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"…Okay," Casey said with a light sigh. She bit her lip hesitantly. "I think…that about covers it, then."

The uncertainty lacing her voice couldn't be hidden and Olivia glanced at her in concern from the other plush desk chair.

She and Elliot both were in their pajamas even though it was barely 9 pm. An almost picnic of room-service was spread over the bed they had both been sitting on before Casey had come for their last-minute, impromptu session to make sure he was still comfortable about what would be happening in the morning, as they had opted not to stop for dinner on the way up.

Feeling guilty about the cheeseburger she had ordered, Olivia had hesitantly added a bowl of oatmeal for him after he had practically begged her for something else besides another Ensure shake. He had spent the entire time Casey had been with them inhaling it as if it were his last meal and looked so content when he was finished that even the attorney hadn't been able to keep a straight face.

Casey unfolded herself from the chair and straightened her sweatpant-clad legs with a soft groan, finding them tingling and unresponsive after fifteen minutes of being curled up Indian-style. She rolled her neck and stood up.

"How're you feeling about this, Elliot?" she asked softly, her gaze sympathetic. She paused awkwardly. "Think you're okay?"

His head was back wearily against the pillows he was laying propped against on top of the comforter and he was staring up at the ceiling. He said nothing, only sighed heavily and looked over at her after a moment.

Her mouth twitched upwards empathetically as she continued looking at him and lowered her eyes in silent understanding before returning her attention to Olivia.

"Alright," she said softly, trying to smile. She could see Olivia having to make the same effort. "I…guess I'll see you guys in the morning."

As her sentence ended, Casey subtly flicked her eyes toward the door in silent request and saw the other woman's face crinkle in surprise. A quick glance toward Elliot was enough for her to get the message, though, and Olivia nodded lightly in understanding, following her to the doorway as she went to leave.

Casey paused in the hallway and Olivia looked at her worriedly. "What's wrong?" she asked softly.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could they were interrupted by Elliot calling out from inside uncertainly.

"Olivia?"

Her eyes darting back toward the room, the detective quickly turned to come back in where he could see her. "It's okay," she said reassuringly, nodding tenderly. "I'm still right here…I'm not going anywhere, Elliot. I promise. I'm right here by the door, honey."

The other woman looked at her sympathetically when she returned but Olivia hurried to look away so as not give away any emotion on her face. Casey hurried to get to the point.

"There's something you should know, Olivia," she said quietly, standing close to her to avoid her words being heard from inside. The attorney's face became slightly strained and the detective felt her chest tighten nervously. "I was just notified today that Elizabeth Olivet has been subpoenaed by the defense for the trial."

Olivia's face reflected the shock she felt. "What?" she asked, appalled. It took her a minute to process the alarm signals shooting through her. "What-what does she have to do with anything?" Her voice came out weaker than she expected, already dreading the answer.

Casey looked helpless and angry at the same time. "Haskins is going to try to influence the jury into believing that the trauma Elliot has gone through isn't enough for a reasonably valid testimony against the defendants," she said. "He's most likely going to make her give a medical opinion based on what she's seen from him about whether or not what he says can be interpreted as true."

Olivia felt like she could spit nails.

"How the hell…?" she hissed with clenched teeth. She felt so angry and betrayed for him that she almost couldn't even speak. "_How_? What about doctor-patient privilege?" Casey could see her anger rising with each syllable. "It's confidential…he can't. He _can't._"

By the look on Casey's face, Olivia knew that she was getting ready to say something that wasn't going to sit well.

"Doctor-patient privilege applies when the patient is under paid contract with a therapist," the attorney said with trepidation. "Olivia, I know that Doctor Olivet has worked with you guys, that you're friendly with her. She hasn't been charging either of you for any of her visits with him…she's making time for him out of her own free will." Her face scrunched desperately. "And unfortunately, that makes what goes on a matter of public record."

Olivia was silent when she finished. Her eyes seemed dazed, unfocused. They stand not speaking for several moments.

"I…I can't believe this," Olivia finally managed to whisper. Her voice sounded raw. "He's the victim…and they're trying to make what happened his fault."

Casey's face was pained. But she didn't say anything.

She couldn't say anything.

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He spat the remaining foam and rinsed out the sink, running the toothbrush under the faucet for a minute before shutting the water off. Wiping his face dry, Fin put the brush and tube of toothpaste back onto the counter beside the mirror and turned off the light.

The television immediately cast a cool blue glow over the dark room as he exited the bathroom and found his way to the bed closest to the wall. John was under the covers in the other bed with his elbows folded behind his head, leaning against three pillows as he stared at the screen.

Fin pulled the covers back to the middle of the bed and lumbered his body down onto the mattress. The springs squeaked annoyingly as he twisted and shuffled to find a comfortable spot.

After a minute, finding that no matter which way he turned the bed just would not get to his liking, he inhaled in irritation and went still. The room fell silent save for the soft drone of whatever program it was that John had turned on. Then after another minute he kicked the blankets away angrily and threw his arms out over the pillows, huffing loudly in frustration.

His partner looked over. "What?" he asked.

The black man scowled, squirming uncomfortably against the sheets he was lying on. "It's hot as shit in here," he muttered unhappily. He blew out another chest full of air dramatically, as if he was being fried alive.

John's face screwed up in response to his thoughts. The man had to be nuts….when he had gotten into bed, he had been so cold that he had covered himself up with all of the blankets he could find.

He continued looking at him oddly, but Fin didn't appear to actually want a response, as he had hunched his shoulders back against the pillows and looked to be watching the TV sullenly in acceptance of his fate.

John considered for a few moments. "Want me to turn the heat down?" he finally ventured, breaking the silence hesitantly.

Startled by the sudden intrusion into the quiet, Fin's head snapped toward the other side of the room with a look of bewilderment. He opened his mouth to fire a quip at his partner but then stopped.

The feeling hung in the air, as unsettlingly tangible as if it were an actual visible presence occupying the room with them.

They were trying; the effort was obviously there…but they both could feel it between them. The Munch-Fin dynamic still just wasn't quite the same.

Not the way it was before.

_Before._

Realizing the question was hanging uncomfortably and he had yet to respond, Fin took a breath and let it out silently.

"Naw," he said. "Don't worry about it."

The silence fell again, ten times louder than it had been. Fin pursed his lips and sucked on his cheek uncertainly. He let another few moments pass.

"Thanks," he added quietly.

John didn't say anything in return, but Fin saw his nod from the corner of his eye and the way he appeared more comfortable when he scooted further up against the pillows.

This time when they fell silent, it didn't feel so suffocated.

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She was dead to world in the next bed and didn't even stir when he suddenly began pushing the blankets away from him fast. Terror and pure dread coursed through him as he struggled to get up.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Elliot attempted to stand and was overcome with dizziness so fast that he didn't even realize it when the ground came up to meet him. He found himself lying on the carpet, expelling breath painfully from his midsection and blinking in confusion, wondering what was happening.

But then it came back and he was reminded exactly what was happening.

_Oh, God…oh, God._

He could feel himself trembling as he crawled pathetically toward the bathroom, his head throbbing so much that he felt like he was falling. Tears of agony leaked from his eyes.

He was so disgustingly nauseous and sick to his stomach by the time he made it to the tile that he actually _wanted _to throw up just so he wouldn't feel it anymore.

His fingers shook as he clawed at the lid of the toilet. He managed to open it enough to lean forward before his stomach began trying to push his guts up through his mouth. He couldn't keep from sobbing as he heaved over and over again. Nothing was coming up.

He wanted to die…he just wanted to die.

Light abruptly came on to slice through his pounding skull as he spat and coughed tearfully.

"Elliot."

Olivia's voice was soft and soothing but he was too miserable to do anything but collapse against the porcelain. Water ran above him and then she was crouched at his side.

"Shh, sweetheart," she murmured sympathetically. She wrapped her arm around his back and scratched gently with her fingers, bringing her other hand up to press a wet washcloth to his forehead. She kneaded it into his skin and kissed his temple in anguish. "It's okay. It's okay."

His eyes were screwed shut in agony and he was shaking. Laying the cloth down on the floor, Olivia gently took his shoulders and pulled him into her arms. She stroked his hair and sat against the bathtub with him while he cried.

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She had her alarm set for 6:00 am.

By 4:30, Casey gave up on tossing and sat up to turn it off.

Dead tired and yet unable to close her eyes, she lowered her feet to the floor and bent over, digging her palms into her eyes. That damn headache was back with a vengeance.

In the next bed, Melinda was fast asleep, scrunched up against several pillows with the covers strewn around her. Casey inhaled quietly and looked away after a minute, feeling awkward and intrusive.

Restless and wound tight, she got up carefully and crept across the carpet. She held her breath, praying that she didn't bump into anything as she felt her way to the bathroom. She slid her hand between the door and the wall as she closed it so as not to make any noise and turned on the light.

The water came out fast and hot and she sighed as she pulled her hand away from the knobs. She stood in front of the mirror as she stripped and wasn't pleased with the face looking back at her.

Melinda was up by 7:30 and Casey smiled wearily at the surprised look the black woman gave at seeing her wide awake with notes spread all over her lap.

The tension was palpable and the other woman could easily feel it. "Morning," she murmured quietly.

Casey's expression was desperate as she gazed over at her.

"Yeah," she said. Her voice, for what Melinda thought could have been the first time, was filled with absolute dread. She swallowed. "It is."

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He hated wearing ties…God, he hated it. No matter how many times he tried to adjust, the damn things never were comfortable. He just didn't like having something around his throat.

Cragen grimaced and automatically reached up to his neck again to tug at the fabric as he got off of the elevator. The day was going to be long and torturous, he could already tell. It was barely 8:30 and already he was uncomfortable in his clothes. That was never a good sign.

It did give him a sort of perverse pleasure when entered the courtroom and saw Fin in a seat near the middle, looking to be in just as much discomfort in his suit as well. Don couldn't keep from gaping at the man for a moment before his brain kicked him. Seeing that man wearing a tie was kind of like seeing a dog walk on two legs…he knew it was possible but it still shocked the hell out of him to actually witness it.

"Hey," he murmured quietly as he slid into the seat next to him.

Fin regarded him with tight-lips, obviously making the effort to smile but just not seeming able to complete it. "Hey," he replied.

He didn't see the man's partner around anywhere and was tempted to ask where he was, since Don knew that the two of them had driven up in one car. But Fin's gaze had traveled down to where he had clasped his hands between his knees, staring at his shoes, and he looked so pensive that Cragen decided just to stay silent.

It wasn't long before he found himself nervously staring down at his own shoes as they waited for the room to fill up.

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He had been adamant all the day before about walking as much as possible even though she made sure to keep the wheelchair close, so Olivia couldn't help feeling surprised when he sat down in it without a word when they got out of the car in the parking lot.

She glanced at the rabbit he was holding against his stomach and bit her lip, pausing to crouch in front of him a little. He looked up at her warily.

"Sure you don't want to let him stay in the car?" she asked softly, raising her eyebrows invitingly with a tender smile. "I bet he wouldn't mind staying where it's warm while he waits for you."

His brow furrowed anxiously and he shook his head, looking crushed at the very words. She bit back the emotion she could feel sliding up her throat and smiled shakily as she nodded.

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Casey took a breath and pulled open the door, stepping inside. The courtroom was filling fast and she couldn't stop her stomach from starting to sink as she made her way up the side aisle.

Heads turned to stare at her curiously and she tried not to glance at them as she headed for the prosecution table while discreetly taking in what she was able to see.

Men and women in uniform were everywhere, as well as a good number of people in plainclothes. She couldn't recall seeing this many during the first trial last month.

Her heart began to race nervously.

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She cleared the metal detector and stepped back to the table to retrieve her things, sticking her keys, badge, and wallet back into her pocket. A man in uniform was waving a wand over Elliot and the wheelchair a few feet away.

"You're good," the man said to them, nodding. "Elevators are to your left."

Olivia could see the odd stare that the man couldn't seem to be able to help directing toward the stuffed animal in her partner's grasp and she clenched her teeth. She forced herself to just nod silently as she quickly took the handles of the chair to push it further inside the building.

Elliot was tense and she could sense it as they silently rode the car up. She laid her hand on his upper back soothingly as the doors opened.

When they cleared the elevator, she witnessed a man walking further ahead toward the courtrooms and immediately recognized him as Dwight Haskins. Seeing him brought waves of hatred crashing into her bones. She tightened her hands on the chair handles and clenched her teeth again.

"Olivia."

A voice from behind them made her turn, startled, and she saw Melinda Warner stepping out from the far end of the bank of elevators.

She saw her partner's face become strained as he looked down, seeing the other woman as well. She bit her lip, wishing she didn't have to be polite and wait for her.

"Hi," the black woman said softly with a small smile, reaching them in a few steps.

Olivia smiled painfully back. "Hi."

Awkward, heavy silence fell instantly as they continued toward courtroom six. As they neared it, a cell phone suddenly rang and both women reached for their pockets.

Olivia realized that hers wasn't in her pocket where she had put it and cursed inwardly as she remembered what had happened to it.

"…yeah, baby." Melinda had turned her back politely to speak into her phone. "I'll call you back when I'm out, okay?" She smiled. "I love you too, Kay-bear."

Once she had hung up and turned back to them, the detective shook her head in disgust. "I left my cell phone down at the metal detector," she said. She glanced at Elliot and then back to Melinda. "Um...look, Melinda-" She looked her, biting her lip. "Would you mind-I…it'll just take me a minute to run and get it…"

She glanced at her partner again. The other woman understood immediately and was quick to nod with a smile.

"Of course," she said. "Yeah, go ahead…I'll wait, it's no problem."

The detective gave her a grateful smile before biting her lip again.

"Elliot?" She stepped around closer to him hesitantly. "Would it be alright if you sat here with Melinda for a minute?" She rubbed his shoulder warmly, seeing his look of panic. "It'll take me one second, honey, I promise. I'll be back in one second."

He stared at her timidly and she bit her lip, forcing a reassuring smile as she rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes fell slowly toward the ground.

Swallowing, she stared at his head for a minute and took a breath.

Melinda looked at her sympathetically. She managed a small smile and then turned to walk back down the hall, feeling Elliot's eyes following her as she hurried away.

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Inhaling one more lungful of cold air, John scrubbed his hands over his face and put his glasses back on. He checked his watch and saw it was quarter to nine.

Squaring his shoulders, he began walking up the stairs and back into the courthouse.

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"Thanks," she said, taking the cell phone from the bucket. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," the uniformed man said, turning back to watch the next person go through the metal detector.

Forgoing the elevator, Olivia went straight on up the stairs toward the third floor. As she rounded the corner toward the courtroom again, she almost collided with Melinda coming out of the restroom.

"Oh!" the black woman said, startled, as she moved. "I'm sorry, Olivia."

The other woman was alone.

The detective felt something bitter and cold climbing up the back of her throat.

"Melinda," she said, swallowing. "Where's Elliot?"

She was trying to keep the edge from her voice. _Just relax, Olivia. You're just wound up, just relax. _

The medical examiner bit her lip with slight guilt. "Oh," she said slowly "Well…I-I had to use the restroom…I told him it was just right here at the end of the hall, he-he said he was okay."

Olivia's heart was surging in her chest. She whipped to look down the hallway almost before the other woman was done speaking and was horrified when she saw that one of the courtrooms was letting out. People were streaming out and going in both directions, blocking all view of anything further down.

"Jesus." Her stomach threatened to come out of her throat. She was sprinting down the hall before she realized it, fear making tears burn in her eyes. "Oh, Jesus…"

Realizing she had made a horrible mistake, Melinda went as pale as a black woman could and hurried after her.

_What were you thinking? What were you __**thinking? **_ Her breath began to gasp as she continued scrambling toward the mass of people. _Christ, Benson, __**Christ! **__What the fuck is __**wrong with you??? **_

She had left him alone. The men who had fucking kidnapped and tried to kill him were in this building.

And she had left. Him. Alone.

"Move!" she screamed, shoving people harshly out of her way as she tried to get around them. "Get out of the way!"

People were shouting at her angrily and bumping into her everywhere but she didn't even take notice of them. Her eyes were desperately scanning around the throng, trying to see around them as she pushed her way through.

Finally breaking free, Olivia kept running only to stop short so fast that she nearly fell.

"Oh, God." She began gasping for air, feeling like she was going to pass out. "Oh-my God. Oh, my God."

The wheelchair was pushed sideways facing the bench against the wall at an unnatural angle.

It was empty.


	61. Chapter 61

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: Though certainly not verbatim, some ideas and dialogue in this chapter are borrowed from season five's "Mean" and "Brotherhood."**

**Also, please remember this is fiction, people. In real life, a trial like this would take months. **_**Months. **_**Creative liberties are being taken here to allow glimpses into each trial while making sure this story ends before season 400 of SVU. **

Melinda skidded to a stop beside her, her breathing exerted. Her eyes widened both at the sight of the empty wheelchair and the state of the other woman.

"Olivia," she said, catching her breath. She reached timidly for her shoulder. "Calm-"

The detective wrenched to the side fast and the black woman almost fell over. She was gasping and starting to tremble.

"No," she whispered, the air wheezing like she had a hole in her chest. "No, Jesus-"

Her face was so deadly pale that the Melinda surged forward and grabbed her arm in fear that she would fall. The touch seemed to startle her, as Olivia jumped violently. Her eyes suddenly came back into focus and she looked around wildly.

"Get security." Her voice was frantic and the medical examiner gasped in surprise when the other woman abruptly gripped her bicep. "Go **find a security guard**!" Olivia's fingers were shaking. "**NOW!" **

"Hey-" Coming toward them from the other direction, Munch started to greet them and witnessed Olivia's roughness. He hurried the rest of the way toward them, shocked when he saw their faces. "What the hell-?"

Olivia whirled toward the sound of his voice and barreled right into him, making him jump. "He was right here," she sputtered rapidly, panic making her words run into each other. "Hurry up, we've got to get security in here….we've got to do it **now**, he was right here!"

His face was twisted in confusion and concern, trying to make sense of what she was saying. He shook his head slightly and gripped her arm, trying to get her calmed down.

"What-?" he began. "Olivia-"

But she cut him off, darting around his arm and sprinting down the hall when she glimpsed a uniformed officer coming up the stairs. Alarmed, he quickly looked to Melinda. Reaction was catching up with her now as she told him what was happening in a rush.

Horror and panic flooded his face as he realized what Olivia had been saying.

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His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. The room was almost packed to capacity and the combination of all of those people talking quietly to each other made it as loud as a telethon.

Pulling the instrument out, he turned slightly away and pressed his finger to his ear as he spoke.

"Fin," he answered.

Fin, where are you?" There was no mistaking John's voice.

"In the courtroom," he replied. He moved to check his watch warningly. "Why aren't you-?"

"Get out here," his partner interrupted. "I'm outside the doors, get out here right now."

The tone made him instantly on alert. "What's-?"

"Call Cragen," John was continuing on rapidly. "Tell him to meet us in front of-"

"He's right here," Fin said, cutting in this time and looking toward the captain. The older man's eyes narrowed suspiciously but turned into wariness at the look on the detective's face as he spoke on the phone. His adrenaline coursing now, he spoke firmly in concern. "John, **what's going-**"

"We've got a situation," his partner said quickly, the alarm in his voice clear. "Just **come**!"

He realized John had hung up on him when he suddenly heard a dial tone.

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The radio crackled for a moment.

"…negative," a male's voice said through the frequency. "They haven't arrived."

The security guard pursed his lips and looked back at John. "Neither of the defendants is in the courtroom," he reported. "Bailiff says they haven't been in yet."

His heart sank. "Alright," he said. He paused a minute and looked at the four uniformed men who had arrived. "Split up your guys between the fourth and fifth floors. My partner and captain are on their way, we'll get the bottom two and this one."

"What's going on?" Cragen hurried toward them with Fin only a step behind. "John, what happened?"

The security guard held his radio to his mouth a few feet away as the detective recounted for them.

"375, this is 18-22," he said in code into it. "Location 3...need potential lockdown situation, possible parolee escape in the building. Two males, Caucasian, Erie County Correctional….over."

"…they're getting guys on the top two floors now," John continued.

Cragen nodded. "You two get the first and second," he said immediately. "I'll take this floor."

They turned and hurried off in the other direction as the guards began dispersing toward their locations. Don looked for Olivia and finally spotted her after a minute standing by the empty wheelchair, staring transfixed at it.

He came toward her carefully. Melinda was a few feet away and looked at him. He saw her worry plainly but his detective just continued staring as if performing hypnosis.

"They got him, oh God, how could we let this happen?" Her voice was trembling and hysterical and choked all at the same time. "They actually got him."

Her voice trailed off as if wispy. He could see tear tracks on her face and she kept shivering, as if she was chilled.

It scared him to see this broken woman in the form of his detective.

"Olivia, don't jump to conclusions," he said, trying to be calm for her. "He's almost certainly still here in the building. We've got units checking this floor and the top two, Munch and Fin are checking the ground floors."

He came beside her and stepped almost in front of her, forcing her to see him. "It's okay, Olivia." He nodded, trying to assure her. "It's going to be okay."

"They could be raping him right here," she kept on, stammering and not looking to even be paying attention to him at all. "A janitor-"

"He might have-"

"A janitor's closet-"

"-just tried to go get a drink of water or something." Don was trying his best to get her focused. "We'll find him…we'll find him." He reached gently for her shoulder. "Come on, let's start searching this floor."

She remained frozen in her place. "A stairwell," she went on tearfully, breathing shakily. "If he's gone, if they dragged him out of here…"

"Olivia, the exits are being locked down," he said, practically pleading. "We can't assume anything yet, we just need to start looking. Come on."

She was breathing harshly, shaking her head, but finally looked at him with glassy eyes. She said nothing but reluctantly acquiesced, stepping toward him.

"Can I do anything to help?" Melinda asked worriedly.

He looked at her. "Yeah," he said after a minute. "Let Casey know what's going on."

She immediately nodded and went past him toward the door to the courtroom. When he looked at Olivia, she shook her head again.

"He didn't want to do this." Her voice was broken and her face was starting to twist. "He never wanted to come here, I made him do this."

"You just wanted what's best for him, Olivia," he said. "All of us did."

She began moving as if floating on her feet, her gaze wet and unfocused as they started down the hall.

"He's just starting to walk. He can't move very well, his ribs hurt." Her expression turned horrified and she stopped again. "He could collapse somewhere. We don't-" Her breath became a strangled gasp. "We don't know which of them is supposed to be here today. If it's Evans….oh, God if Evans has him, that's it. He's going to rape him. And then he'll-" She inhaled in anguish. "Oh, Jesus…either way-"

The captain felt his stomach turn.

_She's absolutely right._

But Don took her by the shoulders anyway, shook her lightly. "Stop it, Benson," he said firmly. "We. Don't. Know. We don't. You can't do this right now." Her face was crumpled and raw and he swallowed his own panic, trying to get his voice gentle again. "Look…how long was he actually out of your sight?"

She stared up at the ceiling, swallowing and glassy-eyed again, her throat bobbing as if she was choking. She shook her head over and over in panic.

"Two-two minutes….three," she whispered tearfully. She looked like she was about to start sobbing. "I just went down two flights of stairs…Melinda says she was in the restroom maybe a minute before I got back."

She shook her head again in despair. "But she had her back turned, she-her eyes weren't on him when she was walking down the hall." She swallowed, gasping in air. "All it would take is a minute-in one minute they could have-"

_He's so weak. He's weak and would be so scared …God, it would take __**nothing **__for one of them to control him, force him to go. _

"Olivia." Cragen cut her off gently, kneading her shoulder slightly with a comforting hand. "We have to think positively. At most they had maybe five minutes… if one of them _does_ have him, they can't get too far."

He kept nodding, trying to coax her. "Even if they got on the elevator before you got back to where you left him, it'll still take a few minutes to get down to the ground floor. We've got security checking every elevator arrival downstairs right at this very moment."

She continued shaking her head as if not wanting to hear him but didn't say anything. Cragen swallowed and kept walking with her while trying not to let his own panic overwhelm him.

The notion that one of those men had somehow known just where Elliot was and had planned just the right moment to snatch him when he was alone was a long shot. He couldn't deny it. Rationally, Don knew that the odds of that having happened weren't very high.

But still.

_He didn't just disappear_. Even as he was sure to remain alert while trying the door handles of each room he passed, Cragen's mind was still shooting out doubts. _It was maybe five minutes...how far could someone get in __**five minutes**_

They reached a split in the corridor, another hallway bearing to the left of their path, and he was quick to instruct her.

"I'll get down here," the captain said, turning. "You keep checking the rest of the way."

She didn't even look at him as she strode past him. His cell phone vibrated on his hip as he turned the corner and he reached down for it.

"Cragen."

"We just got word from the bailiff," John said without preamble. "Both defendants are present and accounted for. Court officers just brought them in, said the only time they've been out of the holding cell is while being escorted to the courtroom for the trial."

Waves of relief shot through him and he exhaled, closing his eyes. John continued speaking but as soon as Cragen looked down the corridor he stopped paying attention.

A plush rabbit that looked very familiar was lying on the linoleum a few yards down the hall.

The captain immediately interrupted the other man. "I'll call you back, John," he said in a rush and then turned quickly back around the corner. He called out Olivia's name and waited until she whipped around to see him before going back in the direction he'd come.

He jogged toward the object and saw it was near the doorway of a room. Bypassing the plush he looked inside to see a small lounge area with vending machines and a few decent-sized couches.

On the farthest couch by the wall sat Elliot, his arm propped on the armrest and his chin slightly cradled against his shoulder.

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The restless impatience was obvious among the crowd and Casey was biting her lip nervously as she glanced behind her toward the doors for the third time in five minutes.

Next to her at the defense table, Haskins was making a dramatization of drumming his nails on the wooden top in frustration and checking his watch. It was nearing ten after and there was still no sign of any of the detectives arriving back in.

When she saw Judge Varella check his watch, she felt her stomach flip-flop. Once the judge became impatient….it was never a good way to get the jury on her side.

Another few moments passed. She looked to the doors again and this time after looking at her, Haskins abruptly got to his feet.

"Your Honor," he said, his voice ringing with slight incredulity and disdain. He gestured toward the two men sitting beside him with a flourish as if he could have been their personal crusader and raised an eyebrow indignantly. "The defense is ready."

Judge Varella looked down at her with disapproval. "Where are your witnesses, Ms. Novak?" he asked coldly, almost snapping.

Gulping, she got to her feet quickly. "I-I understand the issue involves a security problem, your Honor," she said, her words nearly stumbling off of her tongue nervously as she tried to think of something to justify the delay with what little she knew about the situation. "Um-I-I'm almost certain it should only be another few minutes to get it cleared up."

"I suggest you find out," the judge said with a tone that told her it was an order. "**Now**…before I declare a mistrial."

Her hand reached for her cell phone in two seconds. She felt her fingers shaking slightly as she began opening it to scroll for Cragen's number.

_Why now? Why, __**why? **_Her thoughts were in turmoil, distress, and anger all at once. From what she had gathered from Melinda, somehow the detectives weren't sure of where Elliot was. She was still taken aback and perplexed by the situation, and she couldn't deny a glimmer of anger. _After all we've been working on, all this time I've been doing everything possible to make sure he feels okay…he chooses __**now **__to back out? __**Right now**_

She swallowed again, trying to push down her rising stomach as it started to feel sick, and concentrated on the list of contacts as they flew past the screen on her phone.

_God, please don't let this jeopardize the case. Please, please!_

Just as she was about the hit the SEND button beside the captain's name, the phone rang in her hand.

"Yeah?" she said in a rush, jerking it to her ear without even taking time for formality.

It was Cragen.

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Olivia was rushing past him as he stood in the doorway and made immediate calls, first to John to have him call off the search and then to Casey, knowing she was most likely having a coronary.

"It's Cragen," he said, cutting her off as soon as she answered. "We've got him, he's fine…two minutes…yes. Alright."

He hung up quickly and expelled another anxious breath, turning toward the inside of the room again.

"Elliot!"

His head snapped toward the door in alarm as Olivia strode toward him so quickly that the surroundings looked like a blur to her. Almost instantly his eyes were full of fear and dread.

"I'm sorry," he began stammering, shaking his head. His face was twisting fast in anticipation of her anger. "I'm sorry, I-"

The rush of panicked words was broken off in surprise when her arms came around him so tightly that he almost choked and she clutched him against her side hard.

"God," she gasped, her body trembling as delayed reaction began overtaking her. "Oh, my God…" She heaved a breath of relief.

Cragen headed toward them worriedly and saw Olivia hugging him tightly. Elliot's eyes jerked toward him in alarm, his expression turning almost terrified.

"I'm sorry," he could hear him saying as he got closer. "Don't be mad, please don't be mad." Elliot's words were tearful and anxious at the same time. "I'm sorry."

She was trying to calm down as her heart continued beating much too fast. She cradled his neck and shook her head against his, her words sounding slightly winded.

"No," she said quickly, pulling herself closer to his side. "Honey, no, no….it's alright. It's alright, nobody's mad." She swallowed as she continued catching her breath. Her fingers were stroking into his hair delicately. "We were scared, Elliot. We didn't know where you were and thought you might have been hurt."

She could see tear tracks on his face. "We're not mad at you," she repeated softly. Her hand moved down to circle his neck and rubbed gently. "You just scared us."

Once the initial panic was gone, the silence began becoming awkward and strained. Having been watching them quietly, the captain slowly came up next to Olivia.

"Elliot?" he said gently. He made sure to take his time, knowing how timid his detective was around him. "Why'd you come in here?" His expression was soft and open, trying to let him see he genuinely cared.

Olivia glanced over at Cragen for a brief second before looking back to her partner. He was shaking his head. She could feel him tense up almost immediately and the muscles under her hand became tight.

He suddenly was avoiding looking in either of their directions, gazing instead over at the opposite wall and the tables. "I just wanted to," he mumbled.

Both Cragen and Olivia could tell it wasn't the truth. His demeanor was tight and nervous and it was painfully obvious just by his voice.

Elliot was blinking back tears now and they both could tell. She glanced over at the captain again in anguish and he looked back at her sympathetically.

Pursing her lips sadly, Olivia reached up to finger into his hair lightly as he kept his face turned away. "Just wanted to?" she repeated in a soothing voice.

He nodded, his throat tightening agonizingly as he struggled to keep his attention elsewhere. But as soon as he blinked a fat tear splashed out of his right eye, followed quickly by another. Before he knew it he felt them streaming and making his face sticky. He felt Olivia's fingers on his skin, touching his scalp and brushing through his hair tenderly and tried not to look at her.

Watching him crying silently broke Cragen's heart so much that it almost felt like he couldn't breathe.

She hadn't wanted to push him. But it killed her to see him this way and she just wanted to make whatever was upsetting him go away.

He shook his head again but this time it seemed weary.

"I couldn't do it."

His voice was raw and heartbroken and made tears instantly form in her eyes. He finally turned back to face them and stared at Olivia with a crumpled face.

"I tried to...I did." His words broke and sounded so scared of her reaction that she almost lost control. Tears were dripping from his eyes again. "I just-" He couldn't get it out, instead just looking down in defeat.

She shook her head, reaching up to cradle his cheek without being able to help herself. Her hand became quickly wet from his tears. "What?" she said with desperate tenderness. "What couldn't you do?"

His face twisted again.

"I have to be brave." He sounded heartbroken and it crushed Olivia's insides. "You want me to and I know that…I know that-but-" His voice wobbled as tears again tried to overtake him. "I'm sorry. I was scared...I tried to be brave but I was scared." His words trailed off into a shamed whisper.

He kept his face down, unable to bear the disappointment he knew would be on their faces as he silently cried again.

He was so weak. Dirty, disgusting, and weak.

Just like they'd said.

"No," Olivia breathed in agony as she pressed herself closer into his side. She squeezed around his back firmly and desperately touched her nose to the side of his head. "No, Elliot…they were lying to you. _Lying_."

She felt wetness on her face and suddenly realized it wasn't his.

"You're not weak," she croaked, emotions rising up to make it difficult to speak. Elliot started, not knowing he'd spoken the painful thoughts aloud. "Nothing about you is weak. _Nothing._ You're amazing and strong." She swallowed tearfully, nodding and stroking the back of his neck. "So strong."

He was tense in her arms and looking away still. Cragen swallowed.

"Elliot," he said softly.

He watched Olivia's grip loosen abruptly as if startled, like she had forgotten he was even there.

"It's okay to be scared, you know," he went on carefully, his voice soft. "It doesn't mean you aren't brave." He swallowed nervously. "Being in there...what you're doing-" He shook his head desperately, trying his best to make him not feel like he did. "Elliot, it's _extremely_ scary."

He took another step closer, his voice sympathetic.

"Do you know…as many times as I've done it before?" he continued lightly. "I get scared when I'm on the stand too."

Elliot's head jerked toward him so suddenly that Olivia was almost bumped in the face. He looked at the captain with a mixture of timidity and uncertainty that was almost spellbinding. But she didn't say a word. The atmosphere had instantly became fragile and she feared what might happen if she broke through it.

"All those people looking at you…trying to remember what to say…" His lips were pursed as if he was deeply disturbed by the words and he shook his head. "I still get scared every time."

Elliot's brow furrowed as if unsure. Olivia closed her eyes to keep her smile contained, but inside she almost wanted to kiss her boss right on his brilliant bald head.

"Really?" he finally asked softly.

Don's eyes shone slightly as he nodded warmly. "Really," he repeated. He risked a careful, tender smile towards him. "But…what helps me, when I start to get nervous…I remember how many people are in there that I can count on to be help me be strong-people that I know can take over and be brave when I feel like I can't."

Elliot's face twisted desperately but he looked down again.

Raising her eyes, Olivia saw the captain glance at her, asking silently for her to follow his lead. She immediately nodded toward her partner.

"That's right," she encouraged lightly. "That's right, Elliot…you don't have to worry when you feel scared." She gazed at his bowed head with a gentle, open face. "You have all of us. We're all going to be brave for you…you don't have to be brave if you don't want to, honey. We're here so you don't have to."

The silence was awkward when she stopped speaking. She bit her lip and remained where she was beside him, not wanting to intrude his space but still wanting him to feel comforted.

Finally he swallowed and looked up at them again.

"Everyone is going to laugh at me," he whispered weakly.

"No." Cragen's voice was firm and made Elliot glance toward him in surprise. Olivia could tell he was struggling to conceal how angry he was by the very idea. "No one will laugh at you, Elliot. I give you my word on that." He was shaking his head insistently. "Not one person in that courtroom."

Elliot bit his lip. His partner quickly spoke up.

"Elliot-" He looked back to her and saw that her face was soft. "I can tell you what we can do…you and me, we can sit outside the courtroom for a little while. That way if they need either of us to testify we'll be close enough for someone to come tell us, but we won't go in until you're ready to."

He looked at her pleadingly, seeming distressed. Her face crinkled painfully as she pursed her lips empathetically and covered his hand in his lap.

"Please?" she asked softly. "Can you do that?"

His brow furrowed in anguish and he looked down at his lap for a moment. His eyes went to the captain and back to her with torment clear in them.

His sigh was shaky and reluctant.

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Dickie opened his eyes wearily as he rolled over to find a more comfortable position.

It was 9:15. Right now his biology teacher was probably trying to yell over the noise of his classmates telling them to pay attention to the morning announcements that were coming over the loudspeaker.

She did that every morning but no one ever did listen. He didn't think he'd heard the morning announcements one time in the five months since school had been in session.

They had a major lab project due. He and his three lab partners had only been halfway through with it by the end of class yesterday and he had volunteered to record the rest of the measurements last night to bring in. It would end up being part of their test average.

He was already struggling enough as it was. This project was definitely important to his grade.

He felt nauseous.

Swallowing, he pressed his face further into the pillow and closed his eyes so he couldn't see the clock anymore.

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"Ms. Novak."

Casey stood up and squared her shoulders, holding her breath for a moment to prevent it from exploding out nervously.

Judge Varella nodded down at her once before addressing her. "Do the people wish to make an opening statement?" he asked.

"We do, your Honor," she replied, nodding as well.

"You may proceed," he said.

Stepping around the table, Casey cleared her throat and paused a moment before turning toward the jury.

"The two men seated at the defense table are sexual predators."

She spoke confidently, her voice strong and deep. She moved slowly down the length of the floor directly in front of the panel, eyebrow raised.

"Their weapons of choice?" she went on, making her way toward the last seats.

She stared at each member of the jury directly, her tone cold.

"Intimidation..."

She turned slightly toward the large crowd of onlookers. Her voice became even harder.

"Abuse…"

By the time she moved on to turn toward the defense, her words sounded like daggers of pure ice.

"_Savagery_."

Casey let her glare linger on Haskins and his clients for a moment and then she returned back around to address the jury directly once more.

"The purpose of this trial," she went on matter-of-factly, "is to paint a picture of horrendous acts of brutality committed against seven men and women whose only unfortunate character flaw was that they were within sight of the defendants."

She began pacing in front of the jury box without even realizing it.

"Unfortunately," she continued. "For six of these victims, their witness testimony can only be gathered through autopsy photographs and crime scene evidence." Her eyes swept slowly across each of the jurors steadily. "So while their deaths are recognized and honored as a tremendous and unjust tragedy, it is impossible to know the real story of just how vicious and macabre of an experience each was forced to suffer while alive."

She stopped pacing and stood directly before the center of the panel. Her voice became noticeably more solemn.

"However," she said. "That is not the case for one." She turned slightly toward the crowd again and addressed both them and the jury at the same time. "Like the others, he was subjected to inhuman and unimaginable kinds of abuse. Like the others, his family and friends had to experience the pain and fear of having a loved one taken from them."

She pursed her lips and her voice lowered.

"But," she continued. "Unlike the others…the nightmare that no longer follows them he has been forced to carry as a constant living presence. Unlike them, he still has to suffer the memories of his time with the defendants, and unlike them, Detective Elliot Stabler still has to endure physical daily reminders of how the life he knew before no longer exists."

Her words were almost husky now.

"The men sitting at the defense table," she finished, "took away every single one of their victims right to choose. They weren't given a choice about being targeted and they weren't given a choice about when they would die." She raised an eyebrow again. "But now they have a choice…now they have the ability to speak out and demand that what they suffered _not go unpunished_. You as the jury have the power to speak for them...it is time for these men to stop being allowed to destroy lives."

When she swallowed, she realized her hands were trembling. She clenched them quickly.

"Thank you," she said, turning back toward her table.

Judge Varella waited until she was seated before nodding and looking toward the defense.

"Mr. Haskins," he said. "Does the defense also wish to make any opening statements?"

Haskins stood up smoothly and smiled. "No, your Honor," he replied.

The judge nodded. "Very well," he said, as the attorney sat back down. "Ms. Novak, you may call your first witness."

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His sigh was loud and abrupt, startling her involuntarily, and she saw him squirm out of the corner of her eye. Olivia could sense his restlessness. It had been almost forty-five minutes now since the start of the trial and the wooden benches were amazingly uncomfortable.

She sucked on her lip a minute before deciding to speak.

"Want to get up for few minutes?" she suggested. "Walk around?"

Her arm was resting on the wheelchair that she had made sure stayed with them but was trying to keep as nonchalantly out of sight as possible. She would never force him to walk if he didn't want to.

Elliot shook his head curtly, his head barely moving. He didn't look at her while she spoke or while he answered. She nodded and forced a smile, sighing softly as she leaned back against the wall a little more.

She wanted to be in that courtroom. He knew it. She was miserable being out here with him, he was sure of it.

He felt tears pricking his eyes again and the feeling of emotion rising in his throat to make his neck tight.

She hadn't asked him to go in yet but he was sure it would be coming. Soon. She had to be expecting him to go in there at some point.

_How do I tell her that I don't want to go in there? Not at __**all**_

He hated this. He hated feeling this way. Never in his life had he ever felt fear like this of other human beings.

_They're in there. Right now, across from us in that little tiny courtroom. They're sitting right in there. _

He swallowed quietly and peeked over to see if she was looking at him. To his relief, she wasn't.

She meant well, he knew that. They all did. Trying to make him talk about it, trying to make him feel like normal…he was sure they just thought it was the right thing to do to get him to feel comfortable.

They had to be getting frustrated with him. _He _would if he was in their shoes.

The tears rushed up fast again and he closed his eyes, dropping his head slightly to make it appear he was just looking at the floor.

_They don't know…they just don't know what it's like. _

He inhaled as quietly as he could in anguish.

_They don't know what I did. All that talk about it not being my fault…Jesus, they don't have any idea. They wouldn't say that if they knew._

His stomach rolled.

He had put another man's _penis_ in his mouth. He sucked another man's penis and swallowed everything and then said thank you.

_Thank you._

The tears had escaped and were now rolling down his face. He quickly reached up to wipe them and turned further away from her so she couldn't see.

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"...was able to detect the presence of semen coming from a total of seven other men," she finished.

Casey nodded gravely, her face solemn.

"Doctor Warner," she said, backing up a few paces and shifting her weight on the floor. "Did the DNA from any of those samples match that of anyone sitting in this courtroom today?"

Melinda's face was expressionless. "Yes," she replied woodenly.

"Could you please point them out?" the attorney said.

She raised an eyebrow coldly before slowly indicating the direction of the defense table. "The two men sitting right there."

Casey nodded. "Let the record show that Doctor Warner is identifying the defendants," she said to the jury. She nodded and turned back toward the witness box. "Thank you, Doctor. No further questions."

She went back and sat down. Judge Varella gestured toward Haskins.

"I have no questions for this witness, your Honor," he said.

The judge nodded. "Thank you, Doctor," he said to Melinda. As she stood up to leave the box, he looked toward Casey again. "You may call your next witness."

Setting her notes from Warner's examination aside, she gathered another small pile and stood up.

"People call Detective Olivia Benson," she said clearly.

There were a few moments of silence before it was realized the detective wasn't in the courtroom. The judge nodded toward the bailiff, who walked back to the doors and stepped outside.

"Olivia Benson?" they heard him say.

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When her cell phone rang at quarter past three, Kathy was expecting it to be one of her kids as they started coming home from school. She looked away from the television and turned the volume down, reaching for her purse. It came as a surprise when she lifted her phone out and recognized Olivia's cell phone number being displayed instead.

"Hello?" she answered. She paused, letting the other woman speak. "Wow, just now?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are all of them supposed to take so long?"

Olivia continued on and her words made Kathy's stomach twist in horror and pain. "Oh, El," she breathed, closing her eyes.

She felt tears rising and became so overwhelmed with emotion that she couldn't speak until she heard Olivia saying her name a minute later. Swallowing, she managed to shake her head and choke out words.

"Um-ye-yeah," she got out. "Sure." She nodded frantically. "Of course I will, of course…" She began fumbling toward the nightstand for her keys even as she spoke. "Are you back at the hotel now or are-" Olivia was answering before she could finish and she nodded again. "Okay…I'll run out right now and meet you back here. Yeah, no problem…okay, bye."

Snapping the phone closed, Kathy slid upright off of the bed quickly and jammed her shoes back on. Quickly pocketing her keys and the room key, she shrugged her coat on and picked up her purse as she left the hotel room.

Twenty-five minutes later, she was striding back into the building, inwardly shuddering from the cold. She shifted the shopping bag in her hand as she rode the elevator up to the room Olivia had told her.

The door opened after one knock. The brunette detective regarded her with a tight-lipped, pained smile.

"Hi," Olivia said quietly, stepping aside to let her through the entryway.

Kathy tried to smile back but didn't quite make it.

She made her way inside, not registering the door being shut behind them or sparing attention to the television droning so softly that it seemed to be on just for the purpose of noise. Her ex-husband was sprawled under the covers in the bed furthest against the wall, his face tear-stained and half-asleep at the same time.

She pursed her lips sadly as she moved into his line of sight. "Hi, Elliot," she said softly, twisting the plastic bag awkwardly again out of pure reflex.

His eyes rolled tiredly over to look at her and he blinked wearily, but all he could get out was a choked sigh. Kathy winced sympathetically.

"Here," she said tenderly as she pulled open the bag to retrieve the heating pad she had just purchased. "Why don't we see if this helps a little?"

She moved to sit down on the edge of the bed near him and bent down to plug in the cord. But before she could even get the fabric unfolded Elliot was suddenly moving over, cradling his sling against her stomach and snuggling almost possessively into the shoulder of the wool coat she hadn't yet removed.

Overwhelmed with emotion, she had to swallow and blink fast even as she immediately surrendered the small electric blanket to the bed and hugged him tightly to her with both arms. The tender glow couldn't be hidden from her face as she weaved her fingers through his short hair.

Smiling lightly, Olivia quietly moved around the opposite side of the bed and reached over for the heating device. Kathy bit her lip guiltily as she looked up over his head but the other woman shook her head reassuringly to convey that it was fine.

She gently moved him with her further up again toward where the pillows were propped and struggled to push the blankets down off of him with one of her arms. Olivia tugged them down toward the foot of the bed for her and spread out the warm material, trying carefully to drape it across his sweatpants so that the heat would be directed at his lower pelvis and groin.

The rational part of his brain spoke up and told him it would probably be easier for both his partner and for the pain if he were to lie back down. But at the moment rationality was the last thing he was concerned about.

Sore, exhausted, and broken by the memories still fresh on the tip of his tongue from his time in the witness box, the only thing in the world he wanted right now was the shelter of his wife's arms.

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When she opened her eyes and began to stretch upon waking, Olivia forgot that she was sharing the bed. She started to swing her legs out toward the middle of the mattress and stopped herself just in time to prevent kicking Kathy square in the side.

Remembrance flooded back instantly and the detective flushed in embarrassment, rolling gingerly to the other side and peeling the covers away carefully. She tried to make as little movement as she could while getting to her feet and thankfully the other woman never stirred.

She had worried a little about how her partner would react when she told him that Kathy had come up even after he had asked her not to, so seeing how he had responded to her when she'd arrived with the heating pad had been a relief. The other woman had gotten herself a room at the hotel but had ended up having to stay late into the night and rock him to sleep before he would let go of her.

Olivia peeked at the other bed as she crept past it. He was on his back asleep with the covers bunched in his left hand, his rabbit lying sideways overtop of the pillows on his other side.

He looked for all intent and purposes like he was sleeping well and had been. She couldn't keep the breath of relief from expelling as she continued toward the bathroom.

She couldn't deny that the events of the previous morning still had her a bit shaken. It had been a while since she'd felt such terror like that.

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Sunday morning was dreary and gray. Doctor Olivet wrinkled her nose in distaste when she awoke to find the dark shadow being cast through the closed curtain of the hotel room. Her cell phone rang again, spurring her into moving more quickly as she rolled over. She groaned when she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.

8:24. Not too early, but it was still much earlier than she would have liked to be awake. It had been far too long since she'd had the pleasure of being able to sleep in.

Quickly finding the offending object, Elizabeth sat upright and blinked wearily. "Hello," she answered, voice still soft from sleep.

"Hey, Liz." She recognized her younger sister's voice instantly, filled with contrition. "I woke you, didn't I? Sorry."

She inhaled deeply, stretching. "It's alright," she said through a soft moan as her numb muscles began waking. "Sorry I didn't get back to you yesterday…I honestly forgot that I had even called you until I was going to bed last night."

On the other end of the line, she heard a baby squeal and a groan of frustration from her sister. She grinned.

Erica huffed as her 14-month old son again dodged her as she was trying to aim the spoonful of cereal at his mouth and brought her other hand up fast when she felt the phone sliding off of her neck.

"Noah, son-" she ground out in irritation, retracting the spoon in time to keep more cereal from flying onto her shirt.

Her sister's clenched voice made her smile wider. "So…who's having breakfast right now?" she asked, unable to resist. "Him or you?"

The sarcasm in the younger woman's voice was clear. "Right now, I think it's fifty-fifty," she said as she managed to get the spoon into her child's mouth.

Elizabeth grinned warmly again and shook her head. "You have any plans for today?"

"Uh…I don't know." The question obviously caught her sister by surprise. "Not yet that I know of." Suspicion began tingeing her voice. "Why?"

"Well…I just happen to be up in Buffalo this weekend," Elizabeth began slowly, "and thought that if you guys aren't busy…I could maybe come spoil my favorite nephew for a little while?"

Erica and her husband Trent lived up near Allegany, about an hour and a half drive from where she was. She knew her request would come as a shock to her sister, considering the last time they'd been able to see each other was about three months before her nephew had been born.

"Wow," Erica said, sounding stunned. "Uh-yeah…yeah." Quickly shaking herself to get over her surprise, she hurried on in a stronger voice. "Trent should be getting home from work any time…come on over, definitely. That'd be great."

Elizabeth nodded happily. "Great," she parroted. "Well…I just got up so it'll take me at least an hour to get out of here. How about I call you when I'm on my way?"

Her sister agreed and then Elizabeth suddenly remembered what she had been meaning to ask her the day before.

"Oh, yeah," she added. "I just remembered why I called yesterday." She bit her lip as an excited smile played on her lips. "I was actually wondering if I could ask for a favor…"

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At just past four Olivia's cell phone rang to disturb the peaceful quiet that had taken over the room for the last three and half hours.

Kathy was sitting at the desk by the window reading one of her magazines and she was sitting cross-legged on her bed watching some movie that she had found on television turned down low. They were silent but not uncomfortable. Olivia quickly reached for her phone when it rang again and flipped it open.

"Benson," she answered

She was surprised to hear from Doctor Olivet, inquiring as to if they might like to come outside the lobby for a little while and get some fresh air. Her request confused Olivia until the woman continued on to tell her what she had done.

Olivia's smile almost split her face.

"Oh, he'll love that," she said, almost bursting out laughing in delight. Kathy looked over at her sudden upbeat voice and smiled instinctively without even knowing why yet. She grinned over at her as she nodded into the phone. "Yeah…no, he's actually asleep but-no, no, really it'll be fine. Okay. Meet you there."

She hung up and told Kathy what was happening. The blonde laughed merrily and agreed that they should definitely wake him.

"Mmm…"

He groaned when he felt hands on his back, the contact forcing his eyes open. Blinking wearily, Elliot stared into the side of the nightstand next to his face.

"Elliot." Olivia was behind him, her hands warm as they rubbed his shoulders. "Hey honey…wake up."

Inhaling groggily, he rolled over slowly to stretch out onto his back. He had to blink several times before his vision could focus.

"Why?" he mumbled.

"It's after four, Elliot," Kathy said gently from the other side of the room. She smiled when he looked toward her and cocked her head. "Are you hungry?"

His stomach growled at her words and the blush on his face made Olivia laugh.

"Why don't we go downstairs and get something to eat?" she suggested.

The look on his face tore at her heart. She could tell he was hungry, but that clearly the idea of leaving the safety he had come to associate with this room terrified him. As she was trying to figure out something, Kathy spoke up suddenly.

"You know," she said encouragingly. "If you want, I can go get us something from downstairs and you guys can find us somewhere not so crowded." She glanced at Olivia. "Maybe sit outside for a little while? It's not very sunny and I'd imagine there won't be very many people out there."

Olivia gave the other woman an appreciative smile before cocking her head in enticing agreement with the plan. His expression was nervous and conflicted as he swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor and back in indecision.

"We don't have to stay out for long," she said compassionately, after another minute of seeing his apprehension. She bit her lip when he looked at her and tried to smile reassuringly. "Just to get some fresh air for a bit, huh?"

He sighed nervously and swallowed again. He blinked, chewing on his lip for several seconds with his eyes downcast.

The two women waited tensely, holding their breaths collectively.

His eyes came up finally.

"Can I bring Rabbit?" he asked shyly.

Kathy almost burst into tears but managed to hold herself together, plastering a shaky smile on her face to conceal the intense sadness longing to bust out.

Olivia smiled and nodded, swallowing her emotion.

"Of course you can," she said.

Once they were bundled up the threesome set out toward the elevators. It was obvious Elliot was still nervous. As Olivia and Kathy were automatically shortening their strides to match his slower steps, he shrank against his wife's side and gripped her hand with white knuckles.

The hallway was empty, but when the elevator got to the ground floor it opened to reveal the lobby bustling with activity. He immediately froze and looked to Olivia in panic.

"It's okay," Kathy said tenderly, trying to coax him into moving with a confident nod. She gripped his hand securely while wrapping her other hand around his wrist to guide him. "Come on, honey."

He stood still, his heart threatening to come out of his chest at the sight of all of the people waiting for them to move so they could enter the elevator car. Olivia's arm came around his shoulders warmly, making him jump.

"We've got you, sweetie," he heard her say into his ear soothingly. "You're fine…Elliot, you're fine."

He felt himself being propelled past the other people, his vision a blur and his stomach firmly in his throat to prevent him from speaking. Then suddenly he could breathe and the crowd was gone as they stood in front of the windows looking out at the side yard of the hotel.

"You two go on," Kathy said with a smile, waving them on. "I'll go see what I can get us."

Olivia's mind immediately surged with anxiety, worrying about what he could have to eat. She had to force herself to relax and trust the other woman.

Nodding stiffly, she smiled nervously and agreed.

"Let's go find somewhere nice to sit," she said as brightly as she could, gently taking his hand.

Elliot was looking after Kathy anxiously as she disappeared back into the crowd but didn't resist. They stepped out the doors onto the sidewalk and Olivia's face split into a tender smile of recognition as she waved. Surprised, he followed her eyes and was shocked at what he saw.

Doctor Olivet was sitting with her legs crossed on a low wall at the end of the sidewalk with a leash in her hand and waving back.

Lying by her feet was a happily panting, full-grown Golden Retriever.

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Casey wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed the plate away. For a minute the silence was filled with sounds of chewing or clearing of throats as they all began glancing at each other awkwardly, not sure exactly what their next moves should be. The tension surrounding the table was palpable.

Stir-crazy from being cooped up in the hotel and filled with restless, stressful energy, Casey had left the room at about noon to go for a drive. She didn't know the area and had no idea where she was going. All that mattered when she turned left out of the hotel parking lot was that she needed to get away for a little while.

About fifteen minutes later, she was on the interstate heading toward Cheektowaga and making a left exit when she saw a sign for Walden Galleria.

But even as she was perusing the giant open spaces of the renowned shopping center, her heart wasn't in it. She had hoped that coming there would give her an excuse to be preoccupied from thinking about this case, but when she found herself in yet another store lifting up items and putting them back without seeing them she knew it just wasn't going to happen. She gave up and went to Barnes and Noble instead, deciding that losing herself in a novel and a pumpkin latte was easier.

At about a quarter to five Melinda called her cell phone, startling her as she hadn't realized how late it had gotten, and told her that Cragen was meeting Munch and Fin for dinner and had asked if they would be interested.

After making plans to meet the two women at a restaurant near the hotel, Don hesitantly called Olivia to offer the same to her and Elliot. He had been surprised to find out Kathy Stabler was there but extended an invite to her as well. Though he realized he had no right, the captain couldn't help a feeling of helpless sorrow when Olivia came back after talking to her partner to gently decline and tell him Elliot didn't feel up to it.

When the others began looking through the dessert menu, Casey gathered her purse and coat.

"Thanks for the invite, you guys," Casey said softly, summoning up a smile. "I appreciate it."

The men looked surprised. "You're leaving?" Don asked.

She nodded, swallowing. "It's getting late," she said, glancing at her watch, "and I need to get back to go over some things with Elliot for the morning."

Melinda's eyes turned downcast at the mention of their friend and Casey saw somber looks come over the detective's faces.

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When Casey called to say she would need to come by to talk some more about the case, Olivia found herself unfairly cursing her friend for having to do her job.

It had taken a while that day, but Elliot had finally started to relax a little and not think about his ordeal. Doctor Olivet's brilliant act of kindness had been a huge help. Olivia didn't think she had ever met such a generous being. The woman apparently had gone to see family that lived about an hour away from Buffalo and had arranged to "borrow" their dog, bringing it back with her to the hotel that afternoon just for Elliot.

It's name was Bear, and the look on her partner's face when he saw the animal had been priceless. She didn't know if he had always loved dogs that much or if it was just something about the present situation that suddenly made him partial to them, but he didn't leave that Golden Retriever's side for one second the entire time they were there. Elliot scratched and petted him in so many places that by the end of their visit he was sprawled listlessly on the concrete with his paws in the air, groaning as if he had just been satisfied for life.

It had broken all of their hearts to make him have to say goodbye when it came time for Elizabeth to take Bear back to her sister's house. He had sobbed for almost an entire hour once they were back in the room.

Kathy had held him and Olivia saw her quietly crying too.

She'd had to go back home at around seven, having no choice because she had to go to work the next morning, and Olivia hugged him when she saw his face crumbling as Kathy left.

He had since switched his hug from his partner to his rabbit and was looking weary as he lay on his side watching a movie on television. Olivia was brushing her teeth for bed as they waited for Casey to arrive and had just spit out the foam when she knocked on their door.

"Hi, guys," the attorney said quietly as she came inside.

Olivia managed a smile and returned the greeting. Elliot just looked at the other woman tiredly and said nothing. Casey looked at him sympathetically as she moved to sit at the desk and fished a small notepad from her pocket.

"I'm sorry," she said in contrition, looking from him to Olivia. "I'm sure you're tired…I promise this won't take long."

As the other woman moved to turn off the television, Casey smiled hesitantly at Elliot and attempted to put him at ease.

"Hey," she went on warmly. Her eyes smiled with her expression. "You did great on Friday, by the way. Thank you so much."

He didn't say anything, but he shifted uncomfortably and looked stiff at the mention.

She sighed softly in discouragement for him, swallowing and getting focused. Olivia saw her friend's face shift subtly into a professional countenance as she came to sit on the bed beside her partner.

"I just need to ask you a couple of questions to prepare for tomorrow," she said, her eyes flickering down to her notepad for a minute. "Do you think you can do that, Elliot?"

He swallowed and his expression turned pained, but he nodded reluctantly after first looking at Olivia uneasily. She nodded, glancing at the female detective for a brief second. She knew that her eyes matched the look on Olivia's face.

"Okay," she said, nodding.

Blowing out a breath, she crinkled her brow slightly as the feeling of apprehension began building in her gut again like it had when she'd realized the need for the questions.

"Elliot, um…" Her green eyes locked on his hesitantly. "Your statement mentions the men taking your badge, handcuffs, and gun from you when they put you in the van." She paused delicately, giving him time to process her words and to confirm with downcast eyes. She continued in a careful tone. "Do you remember if they took anything else?"

As she had expected, the question clearly unsettled him. He had never thought about it.

Olivia was surprised, having never considered the idea herself, but she became more concerned at the look taking over her partner's face. He was starting to look lost and scared.

Her eyes jerked toward Casey in outrage, the question burning in the brown.

_Is it really necessary to put him through this right now?_

The grieving yet solid look reflecting back at her made the answer obvious. She bit her lip and looked at her lap to get under control. They both knew it wasn't Casey she was angry at.

Elliot swallowed and looked back up at Casey with his brows scrunched tearfully.

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The courtroom was just as packed on Monday morning.

It took almost twenty minutes for Olivia to finally manage to convince him that no one would see if they slipped in right as the trial began and sat in the very back row. She didn't know if it was because he was afraid of seeing the defendants or because he was convinced everyone would be staring at him, but he finally allowed it after she'd promised several times that it would be alright to leave any time he wanted.

They made it in about two minutes before start time. Elliot quickly slid in the row before she could so that her body was blocking him from the end of the bench and became so stiff as the time ticked on that she had to start rubbing his shoulder to get the knots out. His head was down the entire time and she could tell he was slightly trembling as he refused to look up for even one second.

Unfortunately, though she had made sure to assure him as confidently as she could and would never have told him otherwise, Olivia knew that the others in the room did in fact notice their presence and were not looking at her when they turned to gaze at their row.

"All rise."

As feet shuffled and everyone around them rose to their feet, Elliot began attempting to scoot closer beside her even though there was practically not even a gap between them. Not caring about being disrespectful, Olivia wrapped her arm behind his back and drew him into her side, hugging his shoulder against her chin for a long moment.

The bailiff's voice was deep as the judge came out from his chambers. "Docket number 10-2343," he read. "People vs. Jeffrey Pendleton, Matt Lucas, and James Bowman. The honorable judge Warren J. Varella presiding."

Though keeping her hold gentle and comforting, Olivia let her eyes zero in on the defense table as the bailiff instructed everyone else to be seated. She felt her rage building as she gazed over each of the three men seated beside Dwight Haskins.

Somehow, knowing their names just made her angrier.

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When Casey called him as the last witness, he felt like he wanted to throw up.

It had been hard enough the first time talking about this…but now Elliot was in the courtroom too. Listening. Just like everyone else.

Most likely, his friend didn't know or remember a single detail of what John was going to have to say.

After being sworn in, he sat down and swallowed as he watched Casey approach.

"Detective Munch," she said confidently. "Were you one of the officers present during the raid of 132 Kroaker Lane on the night of December 13, 2006?"

"Yes, I was," he answered clearly. He cleared his throat and shifted.

She nodded once precisely. "Please tell the court what you saw take place."

John blew out a breath.

"I entered the house through the front door, along with about eight other officers," he began. "Somewhere around ten more were entering the residence from the back and side doors and immediately apprehended six men who in the living room area. The rest of us split up between the upstairs and downstairs in search of the remaining men and Detective Stabler."

He swallowed and drew another breath.

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"Did you at any time contemplate striking or otherwise causing physical harm to Detective Stabler?" Dwight Haskins continued smoothly.

The clean-shaven, dark-haired man shook his head with a comfortable expression. "No," he replied again.

"So Ethan Jones," the defense attorney went on, dipping his fingers into invisible quotes as he spoke, "'the leader', as you put it, used intimidation and threats towards you in order to force you into participating in the assaults."

"Yes," the man said.

Haskins nodded thoughtfully. "Did he threaten any of the others?"

Lucas shrugged. "I don't know," he answered with deliberate innocence, pausing as if wanting to dramatize his next words. "But it wasn't like anyone one ever told me to stop…they didn't look too upset about it."

Haskins nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Mr. Lucas," he said. He turned back toward Casey. "Your witness."

She waited until the other attorney was seated before rising to her feet. Her face was cold, almost radiating quiet, dangerous anger as she walked slowly and smoothly toward the box.

"None of the others ever asked you to stop?" she asked, paraphrasing his words slowly.

Lucas titled his head slightly, as if not intimidated by her. "No."

She nodded silently, her movements slow and calculated as she took a few steps back.

"Well, let me ask you a question." Her voice was razor sharp and biting in its quietness. She abruptly stopped and looked at him square in the face. "Did Elliot?"

As if not prepared for the question, the man faltered slightly, looking disconcerted. "I-I don't know," he answered after a minute as if she had insulted him. He shrugged, speaking slowly. "Maybe."

Casey let silence linger for a minute before looking at him sharply.

"'Maybe'?" she repeated. Her voice began steadily becoming harsher. "Didn't he _beg_ you to stop?" She stepped back toward him again, her face stony. "Didn't he offer you money…credit cards…._everything he owned_?"

Her lip curled in barely-controlled fury.

"Didn't he cry out for his wife." It came out as a cold, matter-of-fact statement, accompanied with a deadly sneer. "And you thought that was funny?"

Matt Lucas' lips twitched as if trying not to grin.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She sat frozen as Casey continued drilling the defendant Matt Lucas.

_Cried out for his wife._

Olivia's brain fed her sounds of her best friend wailing for Kathy as they beat him, brutalized him.

Tears pooled in her eyes again and she forced herself to swallow them.

Then suddenly there was movement next to her and she turned just in time to avoid Elliot barreling into her with his side.

"I need to get out," he choked, practically sliding his body across hers. He was breathing shallowly, like he couldn't get oxygen. "Please-please I need to get out."

She could see tears making their way down his face as he gulped for air, his hands shaking. Ignoring the people turning to look towards them, Olivia immediately stepped out of the row and took his hand.

**Another A/N: Please, don't give up. One chapter, maybe two to go before this is wrapped up. If you feel inspired, I urge you to go back to the beginning and get the whole effect of the story as a whole piece of work while I am winding down. Thanks again for getting this far.**


	62. Chapter 62

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

His entire body felt hot and his head was spinning in the same dreadfully familiar way as it had two nights ago right before he had thrown up.

"Come here." Olivia's voice sounded odd, almost frantic next to his ear. But he found himself concentrating more on the black spots that had suddenly started to dance at the edges of his eye, fascinated by the swirling pattern. "Elliot, come here."

She could feel him teetering slightly as she was guided him quickly toward the benches, causing the hand not gripping his to immediately come up around his forearm nervously. She pressed him gently down while his eyes continued to wobble as if he was having trouble focusing.

His breath left him so quickly that it blindsided him. He gasped in surprise at the sensation and quickly began to panic when he couldn't gather more air, sure he would die.

"It's okay." She was hunkered next to him the minute she saw what was happening, recognizing the fear when it began invading. She wrapped both arms around him and smoothed her hand up into his hair gently. "It's okay, everything's fine. You're fine."

His head dropped.

"I want to go," he whispered, strain and light-headedness making it hard to speak. "Please, I don't want to stay here anymore." His voice broke wearily. "Please, Liv. Let's just go…please?"

Her face twisted sympathetically.

_Oh, Elliot. You have no idea how much I want to do that. _

Olivia blew out a quiet breath through her nose.

"Honey," she breathed, unable to keep the pain from her voice. "I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm so sorry." She could feel him crumble at her words. "I know you want to…but we can't. We can't yet, sweetie. They still need us to testify."

Air exploded from him in a rush of anguish and he hung his head again. This time she could clearly see the tears threatening. She was quick to squeeze his hand and lean her face against his shoulder, getting as close as possible.

"Hey," she said in a rush, biting her lip anxiously. Her hand came up to his cheek gingerly. "Hey, hey…it's going to be fine." She nodded, trying to look reassuring for him. "We can stay right here until they call us, if you want. I promise it's fine."

He still looked like he wanted to be sick and it worried her. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She nodded dryly, her feelings of disdain incredibly obvious with just the gesture as the man finished speaking.

"I see," Casey said flatly, turning on her heel to walk back to her table. She picked up the notepad lying beside her files and turned back around to face Lucas, holding it out to him. "Mr. Lucas, is this the statement you gave to detectives when questioned about your involvement in the matter at hand?"

He hesitated a minute, looking at her as if unsure of whether or not to take it from her. Seeing her nod, Matt reached out to take the notepad and looked down at the writing scrawled in the lines.

"Yes," he confirmed, looking back up at her.

Nodding again, Casey took it back from him and tilted it toward her. She cleared her throat and began walking backwards away from the box, selecting a portion to read aloud.

"'I stayed behind after the others went inside,'" she quoted. "'I didn't want to be long, but it was hurting so much that I just needed a little bit more to get relief-'" She abruptly paused in the middle and addressed the man stonily. "Can you please clarify as to what 'it' is that you are referring to?"

Her expression could have melted ice. She already knew exactly what every word meant and was making sure every juror did too.

But strangely, seeing the defendant squirm uncomfortably didn't bring the satisfaction that she had been expecting and brought more anger to her veins than she would have thought it could.

Lucas was scratching at his neck as if self-conscious. "Mm recktor," he mumbled, looking away.

She heard the words clearly from where she was but was ruthless in her cause. "Speak up, Mr. Lucas," she ordered.

He glared at her hatefully, his face turning red as he glanced nervously at the judge. Judge Varella raised his eyebrow pointedly to back up the attorney's request.

"My erection," he repeated bitingly.

She didn't miss a beat, barreling on as soon as he had given her what she wanted. "And what you 'needed' in order to get 'relief'?" Casey continued, glancing down at the pad a few times as she spoke to make sure she got the words right. "Could you clarify that as well, please?"

She was almost certain that now Lucas was more than likely torturing her in his mind. The looks he was giving her would have probably made any other person have nightmares but seemed almost comical to her from the amount of hatred she felt personally for him.

"I needed a fuck," he spat out venomously, as if cursing at her.

Casey looked at him in disgust. "Your honor-" she began, almost in annoyance as she glanced up toward the judge.

She didn't even need to finish. The older man was looking at the defendant warningly and spoke before she even completed the statement.

"Control your language, Mr. Lucas," he ordered.

A small smirk of satisfaction twitched her lips, just enough for Matt to see it but concealed from the judge's sight. Lucas' jaw clenched towards her angrily.

"I needed to orgasm," he rephrased sullenly.

Casey spoke casually, as if he had just commented on the weather. "Thank you," she said. "I'll read it again, using your words." Her eyes flicked toward the defendant again coldly before going to the notepad again. "'I didn't want to be long, but my erection hurt so much that I just needed an orgasm to get relief." She raised an eyebrow at Lucas again. "Does that sound correct?"

"Objection, your Honor." Dwight Haskins stood up fast. "The defendant has already made his words clear."

"Sustained," Judge Verella agreed, looking at her chidingly. "Move on, Ms. Novak."

Having purposely goaded the man on the stand, she didn't push the subject and instead continued reading on.

"'I told him if he just stayed still it would only take a minute,'" she went on. "But he wouldn't listen and started making all kinds of noise, trying to kick me and shit. I finally had to tie the dumb ass' hands and feet together to make him stop moving.'" Casey raised an eyebrow, looking back up. "Who is the 'he' in this statement, Mr. Lucas?"

Matt scowled. "The detective," he answered in annoyance.

Her expression was hard, her words venomous. "Use his name, please," she said coldly.

She watched his jaw clench again but he looked at her reluctantly, making it obvious he didn't know what it was.

"Elliot Stabler," she enunciated with deliberate patience. "The detective's name is Elliot Stabler, Mr. Lucas…I ask that you address him as such when referring to him, please."

Matt exhaled in frustration but nodded after a moment of silence, seeing the judge looking at him again.

She slapped the notepad down at her side. "Am I correct," she began, "in assuming that by your statement you are implying that you needed to have sexual intercourse with Detective Stabler in order to be relieved of your erection?"

"I ain't a fag," Lucas spat out. "I don't have sex with guys, if that's what you're trying to say."

"Am…I…correct?" she repeated impatiently.

He scowled. "Yeah," he said brusquely. He paused and then added sullenly, "But that don't mean I'm a fag."

Irritated, Casey turned toward the judge. "Your honor," she asked. "Could you please instruct this witness to stick to the topic at hand?"

"Just answer the questions, Mr. Lucas," Judge Verella said, looking over at the other man. "There's no need for any added commentary."

The defendant looked like he wanted to scream with frustration. Balling his fists, he sat back in the chair and blew out a breath without another word.

"Okay." Her voice was calm now and her gaze steady as she shifted her weight to her other foot. "So, since you 'don't have sex with guys'," she repeated his words with intentional dryness, "essentially what you're saying is that you were willing to do whatever necessary to rid yourself of discomfort, even if it meant intercourse with another man."

Her expression suggested she wanted him to confirm or deny this. Matt narrowed his eyes suspiciously, sure she was trying to trick him in some way but not seeing how. After a minute of hesitation he nevertheless answered carefully.

"Yes," he said.

Her face crinkled angrily.

"Then why didn't you consider one of the other men that had been with you?" she asked. She paused, watching his face become incredulous, and persisted. "If in fact it was the _act_ you were after and not the _person_-" She suddenly was striding back up towards him so fast that it startled him and spoke each word with equal force. "_Why did you choose to do so with Detective Stabler_?"

The answering silence was deafening when she stopped speaking. She wondered what the others watching were thinking. She wondered what kind of expression Dwight Haskins was making or if he was contemplating an objection protest.

But she never took her eyes away from the face of Matt Lucas. He swallowed and glared, but said nothing.

She let another moment or so pass before nodding just once, viciously, to drive home the point of her entire line of questioning. She stepped back again.

"You say you never 'contemplated' causing physical harm to Detective Stabler." Her words were considerably quieter. She looked at him steadfastly, coming back almost to her table and standing still. "But you still forced him into sexual intercourse and tied him up so tightly that any movement would be undoubtedly excruciating." Her eyes narrowed. "Well, Mr. Lucas…actions speak louder than words, now don't they?"

Silence answered her again and she shook her head in disgust. "Nothing further," she said.

She went back to her seat without another word to the defendant.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Quarter to ten became quarter to eleven and the time just kept passing. Olivia stretched her legs out in front of her again and jiggled her feet.

She hated waiting. God, this was killing her.

Ironically, for as restless as Elliot had been before, now that she was feeling it he appeared content and perfectly still beside her. If not for the fact that she could see that his eyes were open, she would have thought he was dozing, leaning slightly against the wall with his left arm crossed over and resting on his sling.

She lifted her wrist up toward her face again, ten seconds later than she had the last time.

10:47 and 18 seconds.

She sighed and crossed her ankles, tilting her head up and letting her gaze wander toward the ceiling.

Then she decided if she had to sit for one more second she was going to cry. Abruptly, she sat up straight and turned slightly toward her partner.

"Want to go get a drink from the vending machine?" she asked suddenly.

She cringed remorsefully when she saw that she had startled him, making him jump as her voice cut through the silence without warning. Her face crinkled apologetically.

Elliot moved his shoulders back and forth a few times to loosen them. He glanced at the courtroom in front of them and then down the hall, looking a little hesitant, but then drew in his lip thoughtfully as he looked back to her. He nodded in agreement.

Olivia's eyes flickered toward the inside of the doorway leading to the closed courtroom, where they had parked the wheelchair. She saw his eyes follow her and the pained look on his face couldn't be missed. She immediately smiled and stood to her feet, not giving the chair a second glance, and looked at him expectantly.

The grateful look in his eyes made her heart hurt but she didn't let it show.

They walked the short distance down the hall and around the same corner that Olivia had found herself running frantically toward not two hours prior. The lounge area was still deserted.

He wanted a soda but she found herself still nervous about his stomach being able to handle it. The hurt look that began to creep onto his face when she suggested something else made her feel horrible and she was quick to tell him that she would get it too. It took a few minutes but she finally managed to appease him after he made her promise seven which ways from Sunday that she would get them soda once they got back to the hotel.

Five minutes later they were walking back toward the courtroom. She handed him her bottle of chocolate milk to hold while she shook and opened his bottle of strawberry.

Once they got back to the bench where they had been sitting, she was surprised to see him remain standing after she sat down. She looked at him questioningly when she saw that his face was turning slightly crimson.

"What?" she asked.

He looked away from her, down the hall, and down to his feet. "I…I'm going to go the bathroom," he mumbled. His eyes came back to look straight at her almost pleadingly. "I can do it, though…by myself. Will you…will you just stay here, Olivia?"

She swallowed as emotion rose in her throat. Her smile was warm.

"Sure," she said. "Of course I will."

But she still couldn't help the feeling of anxiety as she watched him make his way slowly down the opposite end of the hall to where the bathrooms were. Her heart pounded crazily, the what-ifs bombarding her mind relentlessly as she kept her eyes glued to him every second as he continued.

_What if he sees someone come up the stairs in front of him? What if there are a lot of people in the restroom when he gets inside?_

He disappeared through the door and she sat down the hall with clammy hands and a knotted stomach, fighting herself to stay where she was, until he came out six minutes and forty-three seconds later.

Not that she was counting.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Nothing further," Haskins said, returning to his table.

Judge Varella nodded at the witness stand. "You may step down, Captain," he said.

Cragen got to his feet with clenched teeth, setting his face so as to resist the urge to scowl at the defense attorney as he made his way out of the box. His eyes met Casey's of their own volition as he passed her table and Don could see the silent fuming behind her eyes as well. He knew she was most likely thinking the same thing he was.

Here they'd thought the defense attorney couldn't _get_ any slimier…Cragen couldn't believe that he'd actually been asked the questions that he had. For God's sake! How could a person be so narrow-minded?

Fin and Munch were wearing matching looks of disgust and anger when he returned to sit down. Cragen shook his head empathetically, pursing his lips dryly.

The judge looked at his watch. "We'll take a one-hour recess for lunch," he declared, seeing the time. He looked out at the people in the room and eyed the attorneys meaningfully. "Court will resume at 1:30."

He slammed the gavel down to finalize the decision. A moment later, people began getting up from the seats and making their way out the door.

Casey blew out a breath and let her posture slump slightly as she rubbed at her temples. The bailiff and another deputy had a hold of both defendants, leading them toward the side door as Haskins clicked his briefcase shut.

A minute later Munch, Fin, and Cragen were suddenly in front of her table and looking at her a little anxiously.

The captain cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence.

"We're, uh…" He gestured toward the back of the courtroom. "We're all thinking about going downstairs, you want to go get something with us?"

She blinked at him numbly, trying to clear her head.

She tried not to think about how much she dreaded wondering how much longer this trial would be or how much she wished the judge could just send the scumbags away without any further prompting.

She tried not to think about how she couldn't even attempt to go outside and give Elliot a little bit of comfort to try to soothe his nerves because she still couldn't tell when it would be time for him to take the stand.

"Um…." Shaking herself a little, Casey forced a small smile and shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm going to pass. I have some things I need to take care of...I'll see you guys back here in a little bit?"

The captain looked a little surprised but he shrugged. "Oh," he said, looking to the other two for a minute. "Well…okay. Sure."

The three men walked away and she sighed lightly, shuffling her files together as she got to her feet. It was amazing to her to see how quickly the room had emptied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"EEEEE!"

Mike Warner's head shot up from where he was reading the newspaper so fast that he nearly made himself dizzy.

"DAD-**DY**!"

The panicked, high-pitched squeal of his daughter accompanied by quick footsteps coming toward him had him on his feet instantly, but before he could even take a step forward the little girl was crashing toward his legs.

"What is it?" he asked immediately. His brow furrowed in panic as he reached for his child, his eyes scanning for visible injury before he even made contact. "What happened?"

"Spider!" she squealed dramatically. She began yanking on his arm insistently to move him. "Kill it, Daddy! Kill it, **kill** it!"

His shoulders drooped as he let out a loud breath of exasperation and relief. He glared at her slightly, not enough to be harsh but hopefully well enough to convey how much he didn't appreciate the brush with a heart attack that she had almost just given him. Anyone close by would have thought the girl had just impaled herself with something or cut off a limb.

But he couldn't even keep up the stern face, his expression melting into a grin he tried hard to hide as he rolled his eyes slightly.

"Where is it?" he asked, walking in the direction she was pulling him toward.

"On the couch," Kayla answered quickly as she continued yanking his arm. "It's big and brown and it was **looking** at me, Daddy!"

The repulsed look on her face made him laugh out loud. For every bit of the rough and tumble personality she had gotten from him, no one on this earth could deny that the child belonged to Melinda Warner when she made a face like that.

His wife spent all day and sometimes all night cutting up and examining decaying, rotting human flesh…but anything with more than four legs freaked the living daylights out of her and it was a trait that their daughter had definitely picked up on in seven years. He often joked that he could take on a second job as an exterminator with all of the critters he rescued them from.

By the time the pair had made it back into the den the spider had managed to escape from sight. It took five minutes and a pile of overturned cushions to find the little deviant, and once he saw it Mike couldn't help letting out a disgusted puff of air. The thing couldn't have been more than an inch long…he could hardly even see the legs as it scurried along the mass of brown fluff in a last-ditch attempt at salvation.

"Kayla," he groaned, shaking his head in annoyance. He looked at his daughter in mock annoyance. "Are you serious?" He flicked it with two fingers to send the creature into orbit and rolled his eyes. "There. Your world is safe again."

The girl shivered dramatically. "Blech," she declared haughtily. Then as intently as she had just seen to it that her crisis be resolved, Kayla plopped down on the pile of sofa cushions still on the floor and resumed her attention to Cartoon Network.

Mike sniffed playfully as he watched her. "You women," he joked. "Use me and abuse me, the both of you…I see what I'm good for around here."

Rolling his eyes when he received not even a glance from his daughter, Mike walked back toward the kitchen. He looked at the clock, debating.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" he called over his shoulder as he began making his way toward the bedroom he shared with his wife.

"McDonalds!" he heard her shout happily just before he disappeared from hearing range.

He rolled his eyes again and chuckled as he went into the bathroom.

After washing up, Mike turned off the light and began making his way back out of the room when something across from the bed caught his eye. His brow furrowed and he stepped over toward his wife's dresser to have a closer look, wondering with amazement how he had never noticed anything seeming out of place as many times as he passed by every day.

The odd grey item caught the light in the mirror from where it looked to be shoved behind Melinda's jewelry box, making it stand out even more as he stepped up to the drawers. He reached out for it and discovered it was a small pile of newspaper clippings. Perplexed, he pulled the handful of paper out carefully so he could see them better.

One look at the headlines and he realized what they were. He didn't even have to look at the dates, even though some went back as far as November of the previous year.

His heart immediately became heavy with ache and sympathy for his wife and he wished he would have known about them. Pursing his lips sorrowfully, Mike laid them gently down beside each other on the top of the dresser to view each one completely.

**Sex Crimes Detective Missing**

Police look into possible abduction.

**New York Offering Reward for Return of Kidnapped Detective**

**ID of Manhattan Detective Discovered on Body in Brooklyn Subway**

**Abducted Officer Discovered in Niagara**

**Double Jeopardy**

Manhattan ADA Casey Novak accused of violating amendment rights in detective kidnap case.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The defense attorney nodded. "Thank you, Detective," he said, turning around. "Nothing further."

Olivia blew out a breath quietly as the judge nodded to her and dismissed her from the box.

"Ms. Novak," Judge Varella said. "You may call your next witness."

Blowing out her own breath, Casey stood up with a small amount of relief as Olivia walked past her.

"Detective Benson is the last witness, your Honor," she said.

The judge looked to Haskins. "Very well," he said. "Mr. Haskins…does the defense have any further witnesses they wish to call?"

The other man stood smoothly. "No, your Honor," he replied.

Elliot was already struggling to his feet before Olivia made it back to their seat, making it clear he wanted to go. She obediently guided them both toward the door even while her ears were sharply paying attention behind them.

"Proceedings will resume tomorrow morning at 9 am," the judge said. "Court is adjourned."

Thankful that they made it out before the rest of the crowd could stand, Olivia breathed in the open air of the hallway. Then she heard a distinct grumble from her partner's direction, making her smiled widely toward him.

"How about we go get something to eat?" she suggested. It was almost four-thirty and, at least for her, lunch felt like a distant memory even though it really hadn't been that long ago.

Elliot shook his head and leaned against the wall wearily. "Can we just go back to the room?" he asked quietly. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

Surprised, she nevertheless agreed. "Sure," she said after a minute. She bit her lip. "Do…do you feel alright?"

He barely nodded. "Just tired," he replied softly. "I just…want to lie down."

Olivia looked at him worriedly but he still didn't meet her gaze.

"No problem," she said gently.

She tried to sound encouraging, but couldn't deny the sadness that washed over her when he took the few steps to where they had parked the wheelchair and all but collapsed into it.

Instead of commenting, she just smiled and moved to get behind him.

All day he had been strong and she was so proud of him… now it was obvious that his supply was drained and he wanted his partner to take over.

And she didn't mind.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The light disappeared with an intrusive _clang_ from the main switch somewhere down below and the entire room was instantly encased in pitch black, making him scowl. He had just finished washing his face and was making his way across the small cell to the bed.

Those fucking hacks. He was sure they thought it was hilarious, the way they would bellow "LIGHTS OUT!" and then wait 2.5 seconds before shutting down practically every God damned piece of electrical equipment this side of the equator while everyone was in the middle of their nighttime routines.

With the exception of _their _station, of course. _Their _station resembled something out a Star Trek episode and had dozens of computer screens lit up so that the fatsos could watch every inch of the upstairs area without having to move from their comfortable padded rolling chairs. _Their_ station had the small televisions on each side positioned just right to prevent anyone not sitting right next to them from seeing anything other than grey walls and mildew stains, each one equipped with a jack that allowed the guard the privacy of plugging in headphones for his own personal cinema when it was his turn for a break.

Like it would kill them to leave the volume on just once, so that they could actually have something to listen to in their cells other than silence and various body noises. Bastards.

Taking steps carefully to prevent whacking his leg on the metal legs, a lesson he'd learned painfully, Jason Evans managed his way to the bed and climbed on top. He sprawled out on top of the cheap itchy covers that felt like burlap and flopped onto the pillow, folding his arms behind his head.

He stared up at the dingy ceiling of his cell as he waited for the insomnia to kick in like it did every night. Relaxing his legs and stretching, he lifted himself up just enough so that he would have room to grope underneath his pillow and fumbled around.

It only took a second for his fingers to graze over his prize. He pulled out the small paper, making sure to look around for any curious fellow cellmates or grumpy guards before bringing it up slightly to hold it in front of his face. He pressed the button on his watch to activate the glow-in-the-dark light and maneuvered the paper until the image became visible.

And just as he did every night, Jason Evans stared hard at the photograph of the man responsible for this hellhole he was being forced to live in. His fingers dug into the edges of the thick paper as he let his imagination wander to the calming place that always helped him sleep.

The other five faces had been blacked out carelessly. He really couldn't give two shits about the man's wife or any of his brats.

His focus sat squarely on the smiling face of bastard cop Elliot Stabler as he snaked his hand down to the inside of his pants.

He held the picture firmly with his left hand while wrapping his right around the erect penis, closing his eyes and letting his mind drift back to the memories.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His scream pierced into her slumber, making her body jolt instinctively into awareness.

Olivia scrambled to the side of the bed and reached to turn on the lamp beside her as she slid her feet to the floor. Her sleepy body protested as she stepped over to the other bed, making her movements uncooperative and sluggish.

"Hey….hey, honey," she said worriedly, leaning up onto the mattress and immediately reaching to cradle his cheek with one hand.

Her heart broke seeing him sitting up trembling in a tangle of sheets. He squinted uncomfortably in the light of the lamp and looked around in confusion. As soon as his eyes focused on her, she saw his face rapidly begin twisting like he was about to start crying.

Olivia felt a lump blocking her throat and her expression instinctively crumbled with sympathetic pain as she quickly brought her knee up to balance up on the bed. She caressed his skin with her thumb and brought her other hand around his collarbone, lightly cradling his neck as she scooted close.

"Hey," she murmured again anxiously, rubbing her hand gently into his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay-"

She was caught slightly unexpected when he came forward suddenly against her chest but her movements were smooth. She dropped her hands down to his back and warmly rubbed while subtly maneuvering to nudge his face gently higher towards where her shoulder could accommodate easier.

Her tongue clicked softly with sadness as she was sympathetically continuing to work soothing motions into his tense upper back. "Oh, sweetie" she breathed in a quiet, painful whisper. She sighed through her nose tearfully and snuggled closer to him. "It's okay. It's alright."

She could feel the sweat through his t-shirt as he heaved breaths into her shoulder, not quite sure if he was crying as she rocked him gently back and forth. The tingling she'd begun to notice creeping up her left foot began turning into tiny knife pricks.

Her foot was completely numb by the time his breaths became calm. He sniffled and swallowed wetly before nuzzling his face into a slightly different spot, his arm tightening across her back.

Olivia's eyes flitted desperately toward where her bed was beckoning, the imprint where she had been lying still warm and inviting, and then to the clock.

He exhaled lazily on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. She couldn't help the affectionate smile from stretching onto her face as she rubbed tenderly across his back again, feeling his deep sleepy breathing ripple across his spine.

She sighed quietly in bemusement.

He whimpered unhappily when she forced him back up and scooted over against the headboard of his bed. His middle was dead weight against her when he came back instantly to be in her arms and she smiled again ruefully, making herself comfortable as best she could.

After a minute she craned her neck around his head and looked over beside them, snaking one arm out from around him to crawl toward the middle of the bed.

She brought his rabbit out from underneath the covers and gingerly tucked it into her embrace near him.

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_Ching-cha-ching._

Inhale. Exhale.

_Ching-cha-ching._

_Ching-ch-_

Melinda grunted, her body twitching in reaction to being pulled unexpectedly out of oblivion. She sleepily opened her eyes and slid over on her stomach toward the edge of the bed.

_Ching-cha-ching. Ching-_

Her hand quickly picked up her cell phone to shut off the alarm before it woke Casey but it was obviously too late. She could see the blankets shifting slowly on the other bed as she set the phone back on the bedside table.

A low groan floated up. "Ughhh," a groggy voice moaned from the next bed. "Can't be morning yet."

Melinda smiled tiredly. "I know how you feel," she said ruefully.

She sat up and turned on the lamp between their beds. The other woman groaned again and rolled over into her pillow, clutching it to her face.

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When she came out of the bathroom with her hair freshly blown dry, Olivia was startled to see her partner still lying in bed in the exact same position. She had woken him fifteen minutes ago before getting ready to get into the shower.

"Elliot," she called out from the doorway, forgoing the softness she'd originally used when waking him the first time. "Get up, you lazybones." She turned toward the mirror and combed her fingers through her hair.

He didn't move.

Turning her face to the side, she squinted critically at a line on her face before stepping back out into the room. She passed by his bed and reached down to shake his foot as she was making her way over toward her suitcase.

His only response was a low groan and still no movement. Eyeing the clock, Olivia realized with dismay that they were about to reach the brink of needing to rush to be to court on time.

She stepped over to his side and used both of her hands to grip the back of his shoulders. He was turned on his side facing away from her and she saw him shaking his head.

"No," he whined miserably.

"Yes," she droned, mocking his tone playfully. She rubbed his shoulders with a smile before straightening back up. "Come on." She patted the bed insistently. "You need to get up before we're late."

When he still refused to move, her amusement disappeared and she felt her heart start to beat a little nervously.

"No," he said again, his voice muffled from his position away from her. "I don't want to go." She saw him curl up slightly. "Olivia, I don't feel good."

Concern began to seep into her veins. She stepped up next to him again.

"You don't feel good?" she repeated worriedly, reaching her hand to his back tenderly. "Why, sweetie? What's the matter?"

Elliot said nothing in response and after a minute she stepped back around the bed, going to the other side where he wouldn't be able to hide from her sight. She discovered him lying with his face near the bottom of his pillow, his eyes open.

She looked at him sympathetically, reaching out to him again. "Where do you feel bad?" she asked softly, stroking his forehead to check for a fever and finding him as cool as ever.

His eyes were lowered to look at the bed intently. "My stomach hurts," he mumbled, not looking at her. "I don't think I can go."

Pursing her lips compassionately, she moved her fingers up over his scalp gently. She could tell instinctively by his body language exactly what was wrong.

"Do you think," she began carefully, combing through his hair soothingly, "you might be just feeling a little nervous and that's what's making your stomach upset?"

His body was tense and she knew she'd hit the nail on the head. She saw his face crumble slightly as he tried to keep his gaze firmly away from her.

The past days had been torturous on him but today would be the worst. She knew it. Today was the final day slated for him to have to get up on the stand. It should have been a relief, but instead she knew that this was the day he had been especially dreading even before they had made it to Buffalo at all.

Today was the day the court would try Jason Evans and Ethan Jones. Though he had never outright confirmed it, Olivia could sense that those two men scared Elliot more than of any of the others he'd had to testify against.

It killed her inside…it just ripped her heart out to think about her partner feeling so afraid.

It also made her want to get her hands on those two bastards so badly that she almost scared herself.

Seeing his face disappearing even further, she quickly got back to focus and leaned down a little to be closer to him. Her hands moved gently to his shoulders again. She could feel his back trembling and heard the tears in the voice muffled in the pillow when he continued to shake his head.

"I don't want to," he repeated. "I can't…I can't do this. I can't." His pitch began to rise and she recognized what sounded like the beginning of hysterics. "I can't do this."

Olivia shifted and sat down on the edge of the bed. As soon as she did Elliot broke down crying, apologizing, certain that she was about to be angry with him.

"Sweetie," she murmured sympathetically, putting both of her hands on his back and rubbing tenderly into his tense flesh. "Elliot-" She tried desperately to calm him down enough to listen to her. "It's okay that you're scared… you can be scared. You've been so brave through this whole thing…" Admiration and pride lightened her voice warmly. "You've been absolutely amazing."

He exhaled tearfully.

"This is it," she went on soothingly, moving her hands to his shoulders gently as she spoke. "We just have to go to court this one last time and then we're done. We're done, Elliot." She realized her voice was becoming shrill with desperation and had to swallow, closing her eyes pleadingly.

"I know it's tough and I know how scary it is….honey, remember what we talked about?" She smoothed over his neck. "We're all going to help you be brave so you don't have to. We'll help you."

His face came out of the pillow and he sighed miserably, his eyes red and puffed. Olivia leaned over to hover her face near his and kissed his cheek warmly.

"You're strong," she whispered lovingly from her position, placing another kiss a little higher up this time, near his temple. "You're strong and so incredible. Nothing can change that." She shook her head to emphasize her words. "Nothing."

He stayed in his position for several more long moments before finally shifting and moving. He let her keep her hands gripping his shoulders to help him sit up but didn't expect it when she immediately wrapped him in a tight hug once he was upright.

She could still see the look of dread on his face as he reluctantly went into the bathroom to get ready and hoped fervently that she had been able to comfort him a little. With that in mind, she made a beeline for her cell phone and dialed a number.

She checked the time again as she waited for an answer and grimaced. Now they _were_ going to have to hustle.

"Munch," she heard from the other end.

"John," she said purposefully, her thoughts coming back immediately. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door and lowered her voice. "I'm going to need you guys to do me a favor."

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Doctor Olivet stepped off of the elevator and began down the hall. With every step, the urge to reach into her purse and turn on her cell phone nagged at her.

She would never have wanted to be anywhere else when it came to being able to help one of her patients. Right now, right here, this was where she was most needed. There was no question about it and she was perfectly okay with it.

But this morning marked day number five that she had been out of the office and completely out of reach for all of her other patients. She just couldn't help the overwhelming anxiety that stemmed from such a long time of loyalty to the children she was here to help too.

She couldn't bear the thought of what could happen in her absence. Right now, she knew of at least three patients on or on the brink of being added to the list of those she felt needed heightened, constant attention to keep from hurting themselves. She'd been fortunate in that so far there had been no urgent messages from her office on her phone, but the time stretching on with her still hundreds of miles away was getting more difficult with each passing minute.

It was twenty minutes to nine when she pulled open the courtroom doors and, as expected, the place was nearly standing-room only. A dismayed sigh escaped her lips.

As she maneuvered her way through carefully trying to find a seat, she prayed for this all to end as quickly as possible for all of their sakes.

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_Be brave. _

_Just be brave._

He repeated the words over and over in his head as they walked in hopes he could somehow trick his body into actually doing it.

Because right now….a trick was about the only way it was going to be possible.

Elliot kept his eyes glued to the floor as he continued on beside his partner. He couldn't understand why Olivia kept insisting on telling him over and over again that she thought he was strong. He wasn't strong, not at all. It was humiliating just how weak he was.

Like right now. Right now, just walking down the hallway, he was practically crushing Olivia's hand and almost touching the wall with his shoulders because every time they tried to get nearer to the middle where there were people his body would start to shake.

Not to mention he was starting to get tired already and they had only been walking maybe two minutes. He had begged her not to bring the wheelchair this time and had been so relieved when she had actually let him leave it in the room…but now he was starting to regret it. God, he couldn't even do something as simple as walk down a hallway.

The shame made his face hot.

He forced himself to suck it up as they got closer and closer to the courtroom. He had to do it for Olivia. She didn't deserve to have to be seen with him, to have everyone staring at her beside him and thinking less of her.

_Be brave. Just be brave. _

_Be brave. Just be-_

He was totally focused on repeating the words over and over in his head that it didn't really sink in that they had stopped walking until he suddenly found himself staring into an open doorway and at the crowd before them. Olivia was gently pulling him along with her when the neurons suddenly flared again with remembrance.

Jason Evans. Ethan Jones.

Both of them.

_Both_ of them.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins hard and his stomach twisted. His heart began hammering with terror.

They were both here, right now, _in this room_…and they knew he would be too.

_Oh, my God._

Olivia was almost knocked off-balance when he unexpectedly stopped short behind her, a jerk on her hand stopping their movement. She looked back in surprise.

Concern filled her eyes when she saw the look on his face. "Elliot-" she began carefully, stepping closer to his side quickly. Her other hand automatically began moving towards him but nervous words exploded from his mouth so fast that she couldn't say anything further.

"No," he said frantically, gulping dreadfully. "No, oh God….I don't want to see them. I don't want to." He sucked in air as fear began overwhelming him and immediately tried to pull her back in the other direction. "I changed my mind…please, I'm sorry, please I changed my mind, Olivia. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this."

Mindful of the people steadily filing in after them, filling up the doorway she realized they were blocking, she quickly moved her hand to his shoulder and steered them into a corner so that others could pass by them.

"Elliot-" Her voice was firm yet anxious as she placed both hands on the side of his face. "Look at me…hey-" She gently applied pressure to focus his eyes on her and hold his gaze as she spoke soothingly and confidently. "Look at me honey."

Once she had his eyes, Olivia looked at him warmly and stroked his cheeks. "You can do this, Elliot. You can." Terror reflected in the blue looking back at her as she looked at him, making her face soften with sympathy. "Sweetie, I'm right here beside you….I'm right here with you. Captain and the guys are right here with you…Casey is right here with you." Her lips were pursing a little involuntarily with her struggle to keep the tears of heartache from her eyes and keep a warm face on. "All of us are here and we're all going to help you. Don't even worry about those guys up there."

She swallowed before smiling shakily and reaching to grip his hand lovingly in both of hers, nodding encouragingly as she began walking toward the benches again. Elliot's stomach was tight but he made himself comply.

He was startled when they reached the very last bench where they always sat. John, Fin, and Cragen were all filed in the normally empty seat and surrounding a space left glaringly open, saving it for them.

They all looked up when he and Olivia neared and Cragen stepped out from his place at the end, inviting them with his hand to slide past him. Olivia went in first.

As he hesitantly followed, Elliot felt the captain's hand rest softly on his upper back for a brief moment and squeeze lightly.

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The sound of the back door opening brought her eyes up from her intense study of the legal table.

Casey swallowed and exhaled carefully, straightening her shoulders and preparing to stand as she watched the folds of the judge's robe swish while the man was stepping up to the bench.

"All rise," the bailiff's voice boomed.

She automatically slid away from the table as the man read out the docket number and case name and introduced the judge. The older man gave the instruction to be seated and gathered his papers, putting his glasses on.

"Good morning, Counsel," he said cordially, politely addressing her first and then the other lawyer. "Mr. Haskins." Both lawyers returned the greeting. Varella's face set seriously.

"Court will come to order." He slammed the gavel down and looked at Casey again. "Ms. Novak, you may commence opening statements."

She stood once more and shook her head smoothly. "The people have no opening statements, your Honor."

He nodded. "Very well," he said. "Mr. Haskins, you may take the floor for opening statements."

He too declined, saying he had none, and Varella nodded.

"Well then," he said. "If there are no further preliminary issues…" He nodded authoritatively. "The people may call their first witness."

"Thank you, your Honor," she said obligingly. "The people call Captain Donald Cragen to the stand."

Cragen made his way up to the witness box and stepped inside, raising his hand to be sworn in.

"Captain Cragen," Casey began once the bailiff had made his way back and Don was seated. She walked up toward the bench. "Do you know either of the defendants Jason Evans or Ethan Jones?"

The captain settled into the seat subtly and shook his head. "Not personally, no," he replied obediently. "I do know _of_ them… both were thought of as being suspects in a string of unsolved sexual assault homicide cases being investigated by my squad last year."

"I see," she said. "What was it about the case that made you name them potential suspects?"

"A DNA sample taken from the third victim we found was sent to the State of New York Forensic Headquarters," he said. "After concluding that the DNA had not come from the victim, lab technicians entered the sample into a database containing fingerprint and DNA records taken from all criminal offenders in the state and compared them for a match, which is standard procedure for all homicide victims when the assailant is unidentified."

He stopped and took another breath.

"The database was able to confirm that the sample we had found matched the record on file for Ethan Jones," he continued. "And going by that information, I instructed my squad to search for any known colleagues and associates he may have had because the evidence proved there had been more than one attacker on the victim. The search turned up Jason Evans as one of his former cellmates."

"Was Detective Elliot Stabler involved in any of these investigations?" Casey asked.

Don nodded. "Yes," he answered. "He was one of the lead detectives during the case. He actually was the one who received the tip-off from another precinct that Jason Evans had recently been apprehended and I sent him there to see if any information could be gathered about the whereabouts of the suspect Ethan Jones."

She nodded and paused a moment.

"Captain," she asked. "When was the last time you saw Detective Stabler at the 16th precinct?

He had to stop for a second to double-check the catalogue in his memory with all of the important dates he needed for his testimony.

"The 14th of November," he recalled with slight hesitance, his brow furrowing a bit as he went back once more just to be sure. He nodded and spoke more confidently. "November 14th…Tuesday."

"And when was the next time you saw him after that?" she went on.

Don felt emotion climbing up his throat. "December 13th," he said. He had to pause to swallow when he felt his voice becoming gravelly. "The morning of December 13th, when we found him being held captive at a house close to the Niagara River." He almost choked on the last part of the sentence and cleared his throat.

Casey's voice was sympathetic. "Thank you, Captain Cragen," she said softly. "No further questions."

Dwight Haskins waited until she was back sitting behind her table and then stood to his feet, buttoning his suit jacket.

"Captain," he said, stepping out from behind his own table. "How many victims did your squad identify during the case in question?" He walked slowly toward the middle of the floor as he spoke.

Don looked at the man squarely. "Living or dead?" he questioned back in a harsh tone.

If the question was meant to strike a chord, it obviously didn't work. "Deceased," the defense attorney replied easily, almost in amusement.

"Six," Cragen answered.

Haskins pursed his lips.

"Out of the six," he said, "how many presented evidence identifying the defendants as the perpetrator?"

Don went silent a moment.

"One," he said.

"And in what form was the evidence discovered on that one victim?" Haskins persisted.

"A fingerprint," Cragen replied. "Found on a sliver of wood that had been inserted into the victim's rectum."

The attorney nodded thoughtfully. "A fingerprint," he said, cocking his head and speaking almost condescendingly. "Which you stated as belonging to Mr. Jones." Don nodded. "You didn't find any fluids…semen….hairs that proved he committed a sexual assault on the victim?

"No," he answered.

Haskins' eyes narrowed. "Then how can you say with certainty that he was indeed the one who inserted the piece of wood? Can you prove that the presence of his fingerprint indicates he in fact sodomized the victim and didn't just happen to touch the object before the crime ever took place?"

Cragen sucked in his lips in slight frustration. "No," he said in a clipped voice.

"And yet," the other man continued on, his voice becoming slightly more theatrical now that he realized he was successfully railroading Don, "you still arrested both Mr. Jones _and_ Mr. Evans for felony sexual assault." He didn't bother to make it a question since it was moot, considering where they were. Sarcasm laced his voice. "Based on what…did you scour the trash for a toenail clipping?"

The captain's face screwed up so angrily that it made his body rigid. He leaned forward to speak clearly into the mike but Casey called out in objection before he could say anything.

Haskins smiled slightly and shook his head. "Nothing further," he said.

"Redirect, your Honor?" Casey requested as the man was going back to his table. Varella nodded. She stood up but stayed behind the table. "Captain, please explain the reason why you ordered the defendants arrested."

Don swallowed. "Ethan Jones and Jason Evans were placed under arrest," he began, "based on the statement given by Detective Stabler, identifying them as his rapists."

"Thank you," she replied. "No further questions."

"You may step down, Captain," the judge instructed.

Casey waited until Don walked past her. "People call Detective Odafin Tutuola to the stand."

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"Detective Tutuola," she began. "How were you first informed about Detective Stabler's disappearance?"

The black man cleared his throat. "My partner and I had been sent along with Detectives Stabler and Benson to check out a warehouse in the Queens area," he said. "My partner and I arrived a little while after the other two detectives and when we got inside we found Detective Benson incapacitated, handcuffed to a stair post, and she told us that Elliot-" He faltered awkwardly, clearing his throat again. "Ah-that Detective Stabler had been taken from the warehouse."

She nodded. "You were part of the team of officers who discovered Detective Stabler in Niagara, correct?" He answered in the affirmative. "Will you describe his condition to us, please?"

"Um," he began hesitantly. "Well….I didn't actually see him very well at the site he was found….I accompanied Detective Benson on the helicopter that was airlifting him to the nearest hospital and we both checked him for injuries there."

"And what kind of injuries did Detective Stabler have?" she inquired.

Elliot sat numbly in the seat, his surroundings becoming hazy as his friend spoke at the front of the room.

"_I accompanied Detective Benson on the helicopter that was airlifting him to the nearest hospital."_

He couldn't remember a helicopter.

Olivia had been with him before the hospital?

_Fin _had seen the injuries on him?

Tears of confusion and humiliation filled his eyes.

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"You reported being the very first officer to discover Detective Stabler…on a beach, is that right?" she asked.

John could feel his heart starting to hammer instinctively in preparation for the twisting of his stomach. He swallowed weakly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Describe the condition he was in when you found him," she went on.

_Oh, my God._

"_Elliot," he said, falling to his knees. He hit the water with a clumsy splash that soaked through his kneecaps, but he didn't even flinch. "Elliot, can you hear me?"_

His throat began to tighten.

_How long had he been in this God-forsaken water? How could he have survived such cold?_

The memories flashed through his mind like a film. John had to take a calming breath and inhale through his nose.

"He was lying in the sand below a pier, about three-quarters of the way submerged in water," he began. "He had on no clothes...his hands were-were tied to one of the pier's legs and he had some kind of cloth material in his mouth gagging him."

"Did you accompany him to the hospital?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "We-myself, my captain, and a number of colleagues, we followed immediately after the helicopter in the boat we had been traveling in."

"How long do you stay?" she continued.

The detective faltered a second, the question having been thrown in without warning. "Um…we-we stayed that morning to hear the doctor's report…a lot of us, we-we didn't go home at all the next day." He thought again. "My captain, my partner and myself, I know we stayed until he was moved into a private room on that Friday."

"What made you leave?" Casey asked.

"Officers who had helped us with the arrest had taken the suspects back to the custody of Manhattan while we were at the hospital," he replied. "The law only allows for 48 hours of holding before the accused has a right to counsel and we came back to ensure that it was followed through properly."

_Liar…liar…liar._

His inner voice immediately chastised him and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to reassure himself.

_It's not perjury. It's not perjury. She didn't ask me what __**feelings**__ made me leave. _

_They don't have to know that the entire squad wouldn't have hesitated to set one of the bastards on fire if that's what it would have taken to keep them in our custody._

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Haskins strode toward the witness box with such a smug look on his face that John knew exactly what was going to come from his mouth before he even opened it.

"Detective, is it true that you were suspended from duty for threatening one of my clients?" he asked without preamble.

Munch felt his jaw beginning to twitch. "Yes."

"Is it true that you placed _your weapon_ inside the cell that my client was occupying and against his head, with the intent of pulling the trigger?" he went on.

His face became rigid. "Yes," he said, his teeth slightly clenched.

_God damn it!_

The attorney narrowed his eyes. "Were you ordered to give a formal statement explaining your actions?"

"Yes," he said again.

"And did you _give _such a statement?" Haskins asked, almost the second the other man finished the answer.

John felt his body become hot. "No," he said, forcing his voice to stay consistent.

"Did you give any reason, to _anyone_, for what you had done?"

"No," he repeated.

The defense attorney nodded and then stepped almost right up to the box, startling him. There was a split second of hesitation as they stared at each other.

"Was there ever a time," Haskins asked, slightly quieter, "that you expressed remorse for what you had done?"

John's eyes remained impassive but he wasn't able to stop the glint of cold anger from flashing as the room vibrated with expectant silence.

The bastard had him trapped. He had tell the truth.

Which was, of course, that he done it on purpose, had known what he was doing, and that the only feeling he'd had afterward was piss-anger at his colleagues for not sharing his sentiment.

Seated at the table, Casey slammed her eyes shut furiously.

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"No further questions," Casey said.

She saw the other woman give her a sympathetic expression before turning back towards the table. Swallowing and blinking rapidly, Olivia composed herself and angrily scolded herself for her almost-breakdown after so much confidence.

"Detective Benson," Dwight Haskins said, standing to his feet.

The slightly-cocky look on his face immediately put her on edge. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to knock her feet out from under her.

She suddenly really wanted to punch him…give him a good knuckle-buster.

"Is it true that your partner has been living with you for over a month and half?"

Of all the things she had been preparing to hear….that definitely wasn't it. Her stomach went six feet underground and she knew that everyone in that room would be able to tell.

Somehow, even without questioning the hundreds of other perfectly valid possibilities, Olivia suddenly felt a crystal-clear certainty that this defense attorney had been the one to plant the seed about the fraternization policy violation to the superiors.

Forget a knuckle-buster.

She suddenly really, really wanted to shove a steel-toed boot right up his ass.

"Detective Stabler," she said evenly, "has been _staying_" she emphasized the word pointedly, "at my apartment since his release from the hospital because of the circumstances surrounding the situation and the fact that his _wife_…"Again she made sure to emphasize. "Must work to support their family during the day before coming to help care for him each day."

The man's nod was condescending, his smile oozing with false charm.

"Sure," he agreed.

She could hear the slight amusement.

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"The people present exhibits A-H," Casey said, once all of the photographs had been lined up on the whiteboard. She nodded her thanks to the officers who had set them up for her. "Doctor Warner, will you explain these pictures to the court, please?"

From the witness box, Melinda looked at the blown-up photographs briefly even though she didn't need reminding.

"Each one was taken as part of the Physical Evidence Recovery Examination," she began. She began gesturing with her hand. "A and B are front and profile documentation of injuries Detective Stabler sustained to his face… a broken nose, two black eyes, and multiple cheekbone fractures. C is a close-up of deep-tissue bruises covering the abdominal and chest cavities."

She paused for a breath.

"Exhibits D and E," she continued, "document severe frostbite on the feet, chest, and face…F accounts shattered metacarpal bones and three broken fingers on the right hand, a broken finger on the left hand, and a torn tendon on the right elbow.

Exhibit G shows deep indentations on both wrists and hands from being bound. Exhibit H documents severe bruises on both the upper and lower backside as well as multiple indentation marks from objects being pressed or gouged into the flesh."

Casey nodded and gestured toward the last photograph. "Based on this photograph," she asked, "what objects do you believe to have been used to make the markings?"

"The large spherical shapes resemble the buckle of a belt and a links from an average-sized chain, similar to those used to lock bikes," she replied. "The smaller rounded shapes appear to have been caused by pressure from a stone of a ring."

The attorney stepped back toward her table and picked up a plastic bag.

"Exhibit I entered into evidence," she clarified, holding it up for the judge and jury. "These were the personal effects taken from both defendants upon being entered into holding." She turned the bag several times, fingering and showing the items. "Two belts and one college ring."

She looked toward Melinda again with a nod.

"Thank you, Doctor Warner," she said, setting the bag back down. "Nothing further."

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"No further questions," Haskins said. He returned to his seat.

Judge Varella nodded toward the witness box. "You may step down, Doctor," he said. Melinda extracted herself from the stand and began walking back toward the crowd. The older man nodded at Casey. "Next witness, Counselor."

She felt her stomach become tight.

She had gotten a glimpse of Elliot and Olivia leaving the room in the middle of Melinda's testimony. No doubt he was probably overwhelmed and in agony, having to see exactly how brutal his injuries had really been.

And she hadn't yet seen them come back in.

Emotion rose in her throat at the necessity of her actions and she hated herself for having to say the words as she stood.

"The people wish to call," she said quietly, "Detective Elliot Stabler."


	63. Chapter 63

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

She was sitting awkwardly, sideways on the hard wooden bench across from the courtroom that almost seemed like their accustomed spot by this point. She could feel her hips hanging precariously on the edge, desperately straining to keep her balanced upright and keep her from slipping off.

Her back was forced against the wall behind her and into a ramrod straight position that was starting to ache. He was so tightly leaned against her that he had her literally trapped from any movement from the neck down.

Inhaling through her nose, Olivia again had to fight down a wave of claustrophobic sensations and continued the motions across his upper back that she had been doing for almost ten minutes now. Elliot had slumped intently against her, forcing her into an embrace almost the minute they had sat down, and buried his face into her shoulder like he was trying to hide from the world.

He hadn't said one word and still wouldn't….all she got whenever she tried to say anything to him was an explosion of breath against her. But he was calmer now than he had been when they had first left the eyes of the courtroom and she was glad for that.

She couldn't even try to imagine how he must have been feeling.

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Her fingers dug into a spot below his neck that elicited an unusually strong surge of pleasure through his nerves and he relaxed blissfully into the feeling, sighing heavily through his nose in appreciation.

"How ya feeling?" he heard her murmur close to ear suddenly. Her voice was soft and oddly comforting. She stroked through his hair and made him feel more of the nice sensations.

Elliot gave in to the temptation and allowed his eyes to drift shut for just one moment. He couldn't help it. Her coat was soft and smooth like velvet and reminded him of being wrapped in a warm, safe blanket.

Exhaling in contentment, he contemplated her question. His stomach felt calm and he was surprisingly oriented now, the dizzy dreadfulness seemed to have faded away when he wasn't paying attention, much to his relief.

They both heard the sound when the doors suddenly swished open gently across the hall.

He tensed instinctively.

"Elliot?"

Looking out hesitantly, his stomach began to twist again when he saw the captain standing in front of their bench wearing a sympathetic frown.

Olivia started to loosen her hold. "His turn?" she asked quietly.

Cragen nodded remorsefully.

She chewed slightly on her lip and gently pushed him back upright. He tried to turn his face from her so she wouldn't see his eyes but apparently he wasn't successful.

His heart was thudding again anxiously.

"Alright." Her voice was soft, almost like an exhale, and her hands came tenderly under his chin. He couldn't avoid locking his eyes with hers. "Elliot, you can do this."

The confidence and warmth coming from her mouth didn't match the way his stomach was starting to churn. Her fingers brushed the left side of his face as she continued forcing him to keep looking at her.

"Just like we said, okay?" she went on. "Don't worry about anyone else in the room… just concentrate on Casey and pretend like it's just you and her talking. We're all here, we're all with you." She nodded encouragingly.

He swallowed and blew through his cheeks, forcing himself not to resist her help as she gently pulled him to his feet. But even as he went with the captain and Olivia towards the room, his eyes displayed every single thought racing through his head and he didn't even realize it.

_Pretend it's just her and me talking. _

_Yeah right. Show me how that's possible because I'd love to do that. _

_Concentrate on Casey._

_Concentrate on Casey._

Together, the three of them stepped back through the doors and almost instantly every head in the place was turning to look at them. He felt himself tensing and Olivia's hand on his back was the only thing to stop him from freezing where he stood.

He swallowed again, trying not to breathe loudly.

_Concentrate on…_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The room seemed to be filled with awkward quiet while Cragen was outside of the doors and she did her best not to look back, hoping it might somehow influence the people observing into not staring when they came in.

But a few moments later, when she heard the doors open again, even that light noise level became noticeably absent. Even without turning, Casey knew that everyone was most likely watching them enter and she silently cursed all of them.

When he came into her line of sight, she saw that Olivia and Cragen were walking up with him to the end of the aisle. Judge Varella was eyeing them warily, as it wasn't allowed for anyone other than the witness called to approach the bench, but didn't have to comment because the two of them immediately squished into the first row without taking a step further once the detective crossed the floor.

She couldn't help but notice how overwhelmingly vulnerable Elliot appeared to look once he was left to make the remaining steps to the witness stand by himself. She quickly dismissed the thought from her mind, though, sure it was just her imagination.

Unable to raise his right hand, he was still required to place his left on the Bible as the bailiff stood in front of him to swear him in.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" he asked.

"Y-yes," Elliot replied. His voice shook slightly and he stumbled over his words, making her wince sympathetically. "I-I mean, I do."

Casey stood up as the bailiff stepped away and put on the most reassuring smile that she could for him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He swallowed miserably as Casey approached, angry at himself for allowing his voice to falter.

Elliot took several deep breaths and tried to sit up straighter.

He could do this. He could. This was the last time…the last time. No more court after this, it was the last time.

He mentally went over Olivia's words in his head, needing someone else's voice to reassure him because his own wouldn't.

_Just look at Casey. Focus on her and you'll be fine._

_Don't look at anyone…don't even look at Olivia, just concentrate. Don't look at…__**them**__-_ His throat closed involuntarily and his heart began to hammer again. He held his breath. _Come on…get it together, get it together. _

_Focus. Casey. Questions._

_Focus._

"Detective?"

The attorney's gentle voice cut harshly into his consciousness abruptly and he blinked, startled. When he looked at her in front of him and saw her expression of subtle concern, he realized immediately what was wrong. His stomach dropped and he felt his face flushing.

_Oh, God. Oh, God, she must have asked me a question. _He frantically tried to weed through the thoughts, desperately searching for something having been picked up unconsciously by his ears while he had been mentally preparing himself. _Did she ask me a question?_

His eyes began to dart around involuntarily.

_Oh God, everyone is looking at me. They're looking at me, they know what happened…I can't do this. I can't do this!_

Casey saw the way his features were becoming panicked and how his breathing was starting to increase and knew she had to act fast. The air was becoming heavier by the second as her question remained unanswered and Judge Varella was starting to glance at Elliot warningly.

Quickly moving, she changed position so that she was standing near the side of the witness box and blocking his view of the defense table. She was inwardly relieved when she saw him start and have no choice but to focus his attention on her form now taking up his attention.

The sheer fear she saw on his face made her heart crumble but she put on her most comforting expression. She decided to start over as if he'd just had trouble hearing her the first time, wanting to save him from a possible chiding from the judge. It was painfully obvious that his control was hanging on by a thread and she was sure anything said to him by Judge Varella might send him over the edge.

"Would you like me to repeat the question?" she asked, nodding with a reassuring smile.

Elliot clenched his hands in his lap when he felt them trembling. "Yes," he said, nodding almost frantically. I'm s-I'm sorry...yes, please."

Blocked from his sight now, Olivia closed her eyes painfully for her partner from the first row.

He swallowed and forcibly concentrated on the woman in front of him, relieved to see that she didn't appear angry with him.

"Can you recall the last time you remember being at the 16th precinct?" Casey repeated patiently.

He breathed through his nose and tried to count his heartbeats to help himself focus.

_Okay. Okay. You remember this...we went over this, we just went over this. She asked you about this the other night, you remember this. Just relax and remember. _

His hands were starting to tremble again.

It seemed like everything had suddenly vanished from his memory. He couldn't for the life of him remember what she'd been practicing with him.

Casey felt her stomach tighten painfully when she saw his face crumble nervously. She knew the moment he looked into her eyes what was about to come from his mouth.

Frantically, she began re-planning her question strategy so she could help him.

"I…I don't remember," he said, his voice wavering slightly with nervousness. He looked crushed, like he was steeling himself for her to berate him.

She nodded reassuringly and struggled to eject comfort with her voice.

"Okay," she said. "Well, then…how about you tell us what _is_ the first thing you can remember?"

Elliot swallowed shakily against the barrage of images flooding his brain. It took several seconds before he could formulate an answer.

Casey just waited patiently with a kind smile and gave him the time.

He inhaled through his nose again and kept his attention on her face. "Being tied up," he finally said nervously.

Her eyebrows jumped slightly in acknowledgment and she nodded quickly, encouraging him. "You remember being tied up?" she repeated and waited for his nod.

He bit his lip. "And-and cold," he said after a minute of thinking. "I remember…it was really cold. I couldn't feel anything."

"Couldn't feel anything where?" she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably. "On my body. Everything felt numb and I couldn't move."

Casey nodded gently. "Okay," she said. "Do you know where this happened?" She saw his face furrow abruptly and he looked at her uncertainly, as if confused. She clarified. "Were you inside or outside?"

"Outside," he answered quietly, averting his gaze.

Glancing at the judge, she repeated his answer in case the jury hadn't been able to hear it. "You were outside?" He nodded slowly without looking at her and she kept her voice gentle. "Did you recognize the place where you were?"

Elliot shook his head.

"What did it look like?" she asked.

He exhaled quietly, seeming distressed as he tried hard to remember. Images of a hospital room and Olivia's apartment were all that kept coming into his mind.

The blonde gingerly attempted to help him focus. "Was it…daytime? At night?"

He swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. "It…it was dark," he said uncertainly, his brow furrowed. "I could see the reflection of the moon off of the water."

Casey snapped up the opportunity fast, relieved. "So you were near water," she commented hesitantly, pausing a moment to give the jury time to see his answering nod. "Was it a lot of water?"

His face became distressed again and he bit his lip. After a moment he shrugged nervously, unable to remember. "I don't know," he said. "But-but I knew it was high tide because-because it came all the way to my neck. When it's low…it just comes to your waist."

Her expression was sympathetic and soft. "So you were in the water during high and low tide?" she asked. He nodded. "How did you get there?"

Elliot fell silent for almost a full minute and the silence seemed to Olivia like a roar.

"They-they made me." There was a sudden tremor in his voice. "Sometimes they would drag me...other times they made me walk."

Her voice was quiet. "Who made you?" she asked gently.

He kept his gaze down and didn't reply.

Casey could see his upper body starting to tremble.

"Elliot." Her voice was compassionate as she stepped closer, her face drawn up sadly. "Are they in the courtroom right now?"

The shaking increased and then suddenly tears were crashing out. He couldn't speak.

"Your Honor." The voice of Dwight Haskins interrupted as he stood to his feet. He gestured toward the witness stand and looked at the judge helplessly. "The defense moves to strike this testimony from the record….this witness is obviously not able to perform cooperatively."

Casey whipped her head toward the defense attorney with fire in her eyes. _He did __**not**__ just go there…_

"May the people request a short recess, your Honor?" she asked quickly, looking back toward the judge desperately.

The older man pursed his lips and then looked over beside him at the witness stand. His face softened compassionately toward the detective, whose eyes remained down at his lap in shame. He looked back at the attorneys.

"Overruled, Mr. Haskins," he said firmly, looking toward Casey. He paused slightly. "The court will grant a ten minute recess." He banged the gavel authoritatively with a nod.

She exhaled gratefully. "Thank you, your Honor."

A few people started getting up and stepping outside. Almost immediately, Olivia was on her feet and preparing to walk toward the witness stand, but Cragen put his hand on her arm to pause her when he saw Casey beating her to it.

Olivia got ready to glare at him but the look on his face made her hesitate.

The attorney hesitantly stepped up beside the witness box where Elliot remained sitting. She bit her lip uncertainly before gently offering the handful of tissues she had grabbed from her briefcase.

He took them without looking at her and scrubbed over his face, the humiliation clear in his slumped posture.

"Sorry, Casey," he whispered in shame, closing his eyes.

She shook her head reassuringly. "It's okay," she said, encouragingly. Considering a moment, she carefully rested one hand on his shoulder lightly. "Elliot, it's fine." She nodded. "You're doing fine. It's no big deal."

He just sighed miserably and shook his head.

"Take a minute," she said compassionately, squeezing his shoulder gently. "Relax, get yourself together…and then we'll take it from there. Okay? Don't worry about it."

Olivia bit her lip worriedly as she watched Casey talking to him, their voices too quiet for her to make out what they were saying. But the blonde's confident expression made her anxiety ease a little, as it appeared that her partner seemed less tense.

The attorney stepped away after a moment and went back to her table, pouring water into the glass provided for her. Olivia watched her bring it back to Elliot and felt immense gratitude toward the other woman for her tenderness as she stayed beside him while he drank it.

Letting her arm relax in the captain's grip, the detective nodded at him that she understood and Cragen let go of her in relief. She took a deep breath and slowly made herself sit back down.

Unable to help it, Olivia let her eyes travel over to the defense table and the smirks she saw on the two defendants faces made her clench her hands into fists.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It seemed like it took three seconds for the recess to be over even though Casey knew that the judge had graciously actually waited twelve and a half minutes before calling the session back into motion.

She saw Elliot take a deep breath for composure and she reflexively backed away a few steps, afraid she might be making him feel cornered.

"Okay," she said kindly, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just to make clear, I'll repeat what you've said so far." She paused a moment to look at him encouragingly. "You recall being outside and very cold, near a body of water. You were tied up, and were kept where you were by sometimes being dragged and other times being forced to walk."

She stopped and sucked in her lip slightly. "Is that correct?" she asked.

He swallowed and then nodded tentatively without speaking. Casey nodded.

"Alright," she said, trying to keep her face soft. "I know this might be hard for you, but I'm going to need you to answer the last question I asked, please, Detective Stabler." Her voice was gentle. "Do you see the person who did it in the courtroom right now?"

He exhaled.

"Yes," he replied quietly.

She nodded again. "Will you please point this person out to the jury?"

Willing his hand not to shake, Elliot let it rest in his lap for a moment before slowly bringing it out to point toward the defense table.

"Right there," he said. "Both of them…they both did."

Casey turned toward the defense table for a brief moment before addressing the room. "Let the record show that the witness has indicated both defendants," she clarified, and then turned back toward the box. Instantly, her voice became soft again. "What else did they do?"

He couldn't keep his eyes up anymore. Ashamed, he ducked his head and stared at the sling in his lap. He didn't speak.

Sympathetic, the attorney bit her lip and stepped closer as the silence grew longer.

"Did they injure you, Elliot?" she asked gently.

He didn't look up from his intense gaze at his leg. "Yes," he answered softly.

"How?" she went on.

He clenched his teeth as hard as he could, but he felt his face rebel and his chin started to quiver anyway. It was so slight that it wasn't even visible to anyone past Casey but it made her heart ache.

"Broke my arm," he murmured, wishing his lips would just stay shut. "With a crowbar...smashed the bone until it popped."

He went quiet again and she had to keep prodding. "Anything else?"

The images were trying to overpower his vision and he had to fight to keep under control as they kept barraging him.

"Hit me..." He sounded almost uncertain. "My face…my chest…my stomach."

"What did they hit you with?" Casey asked quietly.

Elliot exhaled slowly. "Their fists," he said. He paused and then looked at her dreadfully. "And…and I don't know what else."

"What did it feel like?" she asked gently.

"Hard," he answered quietly. He swallowed. "Sometimes…cold. On my back. And sharp."

"You were hit on your back, too?" she said, picking up the tidbit.

He nodded and looked back down again.

Biting her lip painfully and hating herself for having to keep going, Casey paused to take a breath and then spoke as carefully as she could.

"Detective," she began. "Doctor Warner testified to administering a Physical Evidence Recovery Examination."

She was almost afraid to step closer. He was frozen so still that he looked almost like he might shatter. Her voice dropped cautiously, trying so hard to sound light.

"Were you sexually assaulted by the defendants?"

Elliot didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe. He felt hot all over and was trying too hard to keep the tears from climbing that he couldn't speak. God damn tears. Bowing his head in ashamed defeat, he managed a shaky nod.

"Elliot?" Casey's voice sounded pained and hesitant, which came as somewhat of a surprise. The regret was easy to hear in her words. "I'm sorry…but I need a verbal answer, please."

The sight of his face crumbling made Olivia's heart pound in protective overdrive. She knew it wasn't Casey's fault, but it didn't stop her from cursing the procedure angrily inside as she sat rigid next to Cragen with her hands clenched tight in her lap.

His eyes firmly averted, he swallowed and finally complied quietly. "Yes."

"How many times did it happen?" his friend asked compassionately.

He realized that all of the swallowing he was attempting was doing absolutely nothing to keep the tears down. He could feel them in his chest now, pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he bit his lip desperately.

"_Yeah…go on, cry, bitch. Cry all the fucking tears you want." _

_The man jerked the rope harshly against his left wrist and pulled it tight, trapping it back in place against the other one behind his back. _

_Lips came down against his ear and the feeling of them licking the skin made him shudder._

"_We'll be seeing you later, little sister," he huffed into his ear, breath hot. _

_The man made a smacking mock-kissing noise and chuckled as he got up._

"I don't-" He was surprised when he began to speak and found his airway nearly clogged, making him almost gag. It was painful to swallow but he forced it. "Don't know."

Casey's expression had suddenly changed. She looked like it was causing her pain just to keep speaking and her voice was almost hesitant. It startled and confused him a little.

For some reason, his brain wasn't registering that the tears had unexpectedly broken free to soak his face.

"Did it happen more than once?" she asked gently, trying to focus on his eyes and not the tears on his cheeks.

He swallowed again, nervousness beginning to make his hands slightly tremble.

They'd practiced. A hundred times, it seemed. There was no reason for him not to know what he was doing….she was expecting him to cooperate. To _know._

She was going to be mad. He just knew it. Why was he all of the sudden not able to _remember_ anything he was supposed to?

Biting his lip, Elliot's eyes darted downward, anticipating her reaction. "I can't remember," he said in small voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John's eyes closed painfully and he averted his face quickly to keep anyone from seeing it.

He'd been a cop for so long that it almost felt like he hadn't even existed beforehand. Sometimes it took so much effort to remember anything of a life outside of the job that it physically made his brain hurt.

His life was so consumed by what the job defined him as that he didn't even see how jaded he was until it hit too close.

Until it was too late to fix it.

He'd sat on hard wooden benches just like these and waited in courtrooms identical to this one for years, listening to the testimonies of victim after victim in cases assigned to him. Most of the time he tried hard to remain detached for the sake of his sanity, knowing that having each of the faces connected with the stories in his mind would forever leave him sleepless nights and loss of appetite. Though most of the time it failed miserably, John had to make a conscious effort to deliberately move on from each one just to be able to keep going in the morning.

He had to do it. To protect himself, he had to do it. Otherwise….well, otherwise he would just be one more name on the list of detectives who'd had to cut out after two years.

He'd had to spend so much of energy focusing on his own self-preservation that he never really let himself imagine how it might feel to be on the other end of the witness stand.

And now, for the first time it seemed, as he sat observer to the testimony of one of his dearest friends John Munch experienced vicarious agony. All of the countless platitudes he'd heard and said over the years sympathizing with the victim's struggle of going public with what happened came shamefully to a head as he realized how shamefully inadequate they all really were.

He had never truly acknowledged what it was to see another human being shatter until he was forced to stare into the jagged edges of someone he loved.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Okay."

Her voice didn't sound upset but Elliot still couldn't look at her. He was sure Casey had to hold in her anger with him. He didn't blame her, with the way he was screwing it all up.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the feelings of just wanting to get down out of this box. He wanted to go home. He wanted everyone stop looking at him. He wanted to hide until someone made the two men at the defense table stop staring at him like he was a piece of meat.

And he really, _really_ wanted his rabbit right now.

"Elliot."

He was startled again when Casey appeared in front of him once more to block his view of everything. He clenched his teeth in anger at himself, screaming at his brain to stay focused.

"Can you tell me what you remember?"

She was not-quite smiling, but her lips were pursed softly as she looked at him, as if she was trying to look pleasant. His expression must have looked upset or something because her eyes abruptly became pained and she spoke again before he could say anything. "Don't worry about trying to figure out when it happened," she said. "Just….tell me how you were assaulted."

_Why am I doing this? Why am I __**doing **__this?_

It was the only thought that came into his head in the silence left after she stopped speaking and waited for him to answer.

Was he insane? Why did he ever let himself agree to testify? In front of half-a-gazillion people, no less? He didn't want to think about it. Why couldn't everyone just let him not think about it?

It was no use, though. The images were flying in front of his eyes so fast that it scared him…for a few seconds he actually felt himself gagged again, bound again.

Terrified again.

"They…they pinned me down. Tied my hands behind my back."

_Who is that? Who is that talking? They sound just __**like**__ me, who is that? _

_Oh, God. Oh, my God. It __**is **__me. _

He wasn't even able to contemplate what he was doing. It was like his mouth was working independent of his brain and he couldn't make it stop.

"I couldn't move, I-" His voice cracked. "Their hands were…were all over me and-and then-"

He sobbed and shook his head, looking down with anguish twisting his face. He didn't continue.

The room was painfully silent, making every sound audible to everyone. Casey felt her throat closing and had to forcefully keep her composure as she attempted to get even closer to the side of the box.

"Relax." Somehow she heard that her voice was calm and soothing, the way she always made it during a case if the victim had breakdown, and had no idea how she was doing it. "Just relax, Detective."

She deliberately didn't let herself call him Elliot. Casey called him Elliot. Right now she couldn't be Casey. Right now she had to be Assistant District Attorney Novak.

"Look at me," she directed calmly, smiling at him encouragingly when he obeyed. "It's just you and me…just you and me right here. Just talk to me, don't worry about anyone else." She nodded carefully, reassuringly. Her words were tender. "What happened next?"

His face twisted and he didn't dare look up.

"They started sucking on it," he managed to whisper in shame.

Casey set her mouth sympathetically and spoke gently. "On what?" she asked, hating that she had to do it. She felt even worse when she saw him start to shudder.

"My penis." His voice sounded strange to him, not quite echoing but sounding like it was coming from outside somewhere, as if in a dream.

She nodded slowly. "Who was doing it?" she prodded on carefully. "Could you tell?"

His features continued to crumble. "They-they were everywhere," he said, sounding distant and slightly uncertain. "I can't-I don't…" He trailed off and bit his lip nervously when he realized he couldn't distinguish the memory.

"Okay," the attorney was quick to hurry in. "Okay, that's alright." She nodded again. "Did anything else happen?"

He swallowed and tried to stop the shaking as he felt it creeping in. But after a minute it became too much and he finally gave up.

He lowered his head in shame and trembled meekly in the chair before his mouth opened.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It seemed ironic to her that her eyes were dry but she had to keep swallowing saliva when it continued to fill her mouth. She would have thought it would have been the other way around.

It always had been before.

Shock.

It was the only emotion Olivia could think of to suffice the feelings swirling around her system at the moment. She was horrified, furious, and entirely heartbroken all at the same time, but it all seemed to come together to form numbness as she sat listening to her best friend reveal details about being subjected to horrendous acts of brutality that she'd never known about. He hadn't mentioned them during any of the other testimonials.

Every so often, Casey was cutting in to gently focus him on what needed to be determined for the present case, but she found she could barely concentrate on anything other than the words coming from Elliot's mouth.

He had cried after they had all left and someone had heard him. The person had come back and shoved his head down in the water until he almost blacked out and then beat him with the crowbar.

One of them always came outside after the others were asleep at night. He thought it was the same person every time because he was never untied and it always hurt, but he couldn't remember who it was.

Someone pinned him down and tied a pillow case around his head so he couldn't see before raping him. He remembered the sound of his voice and identified Jason Evans.

Olivia was so horrified when she heard that one that she nearly gasped and had to stop herself. Tears began to build fast and she didn't try to fight them.

_My God._

_A __**pillow case? **_

She could hardly swallow, she felt so sick to her stomach. Her mind cruelly fed her the sensations that he must have felt…the air supply suddenly stifling, blinded in darkness while a frightening man growled above him and ravaged his body.

_Jesus…no __**wonder**__ he wakes up screaming every night._

Pursing her lips and glancing around hurriedly, she silently concealed her swallows and wiped the tears running down her cheeks as her partner continued.

They had begun to frequently use something hard and sharp and it felt to him like he was being ripped open. It hurt so badly that he hadn't been able to help it when he cried and crying always made them mad. One time one of them had gotten so angry that he had shoved a pistol in Elliot's mouth and forced him to beg for their forgiveness.

Right after he said those words, white-hot sickness coursed through her entire body like voltage jolts and she heard Melinda Warner's voice of dread in her mind.

"_The swab picked up traces of scandium alloy. It's a metal used in small crafts and firearms._

_The gun was a Smith and Wesson, 9-millimeter pistol. It's registered to you, Olivia. He was raped with your gun." _

Oh, Christ. **Christ.**

_Was it…my gun? _

She couldn't even imagine the degree of fear. Jesus Christ...tied up, not able to move, and having a **gun** shoved into his mouth?

He must have thought that was it. He probably thought that he was about to die right then…he would have been terrified.

_With my gun. _

_Did he realize it? Jesus…what if he knew that? Surely he would have recognized it…oh, God, was he bracing himself for my gun to kill him?_

Her stomach rose up before she could even prepare for it and then she tasted remnants of last night's dinner in her mouth.

When she looked down she saw that her hands were shaking.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Closing his eyes, Elliot pushed out a wet breath and had to force himself to keep answering her.

"He…he made me put his-his penis-" A gag escaped involuntarily and he choked wetly in surprise, blinking feebly through the tears. He'd given up trying to hold them back by now. "He made me to suck on it."

Casey's voice was sympathetic but he made sure to close his eyes so he couldn't see her face or those listening. The looks of disgust he knew he'd see would be too much.

"How did he make you?" she asked softly.

The sob broke out and made his entire body shake. She couldn't glancing over at the defense table with an icy stare, wishing she could let Ethan Jones know just how much she wished revenge on him for everything her friend had just said.

"He put the gun to my head and cocked it," he said in a choked voice, barely audible. He swallowed and his face twisted again in agony as he returned to staring down.

Casey had to swallow herself. She tried to make sure not to let the relief show in her voice at her next words, but wasn't sure how well it worked.

"Thank you, Detective Stabler," she said compassionately. She nodded and prayed that he would just glance up, just meet her eyes once….so he could see how sorry she was for putting him through this torment for the last fifteen minutes. But he didn't and she stepped away with a heavy inhale. "No further questions."

Almost as soon as she began making her way back to her table, Dwight Haskins was on his feet as if he had been waiting on springs.

"Detective Stabler?"

The inquisitive, cool tone instantly put Casey on alert as she sat down. She didn't like the feeling of nervousness she felt prick into her belly.

"Did you know my clients," he began smoothly, gesturing towards the defense table with a short sweep of his hand, "prior to the events you have just testified as having taken place?"

Elliot looked at him guardedly, instinctively positioning his weight slightly further back into the seat away from the other man's general air without being able to help it. For a minute he could just stare at him for a minute until his brain finished processing everything that had been going on beforehand.

"No," he said with a slight note of uncertainty.

Casey recognized a tinge of fear coloring her friend's voice and inwardly tensed. The poor man was no doubt overwhelmed by everything leading up to that point, but if she knew Haskins…the defense attorney would likely pick up on the hesitation and use it like a bloodhound.

"No?"

_Fuck. _ There it was, that damn smugness….she swallowed and prayed that for just once in his miserable career, the man wouldn't use theatrics in attempt at intimidation during cross-examination.

"You didn't know them."

Haskins delivered the inquiry as a statement with a tone that could have sliced through metal and stepped even closer to the witness stand. She felt her stomach clench even more.

Of course he would. The bastard. He was Dwight fucking Haskins.

When it became silent, Elliot realized he was being expected to say something. He furrowed his brow nervously, not sure what the man was trying to imply.

"No," he repeated, more anxiously this time.

The other man stopped in front of him with a condescending frown.

"Really?" he crooned, looking dramatically confused. "Huh…your commanding officer testified just a few minutes ago about you and your squad heading an investigation on Ethan Jones, and that he sent _you_ to question Jason Evans in November of last year about his whereabouts." The hard expression that quickly took over the man's face made Elliot's face scrunch uneasily. "Was that not true?"

He had no idea. Everything that everyone else was saying had happened….he couldn't remember any of it. Not one thing.

Fear constricted his chest. Would this man get angry at him? Was he going to be in trouble? What was he supposed to say?

_If…if the captain said it happened…it must have happened. Cragen wouldn't lie…would he? _

He swallowed nervously, realizing how the silence was stretching out. _Wait…_He remembered something suddenly.

_Wait, John…John said that too. He said we got into a fight. After questioning Evans…he was there, so then it had to have happened. _

Elliot sucked on his cheek timidly for a minute. "Yes…" he managed to say shakily.

"Yes it was not true?" the attorney fired stonily as soon as he finished.

By now it was obvious that her partner was starting to become frightened and Olivia wanted to kill Haskins. Her hands were clenching, the earlier turmoil momentarily sidetracked.

The detective swallowed uneasily. "N-no." He sounded on the verge of becoming upset. "I-I mean…yes-yes it was true."

The defense attorney eyed him squarely and spoke with measured quiet. "Do you remember doing that?"

Casey winced inwardly, feeling sick. Of course he didn't….and of course he had to tell the truth. Damn it. Of course Dwight would make it sound like this. She watched her friend's face twist slightly and she knew Elliot realized the same thing.

"No," he replied nervously.

"Thank you," the defense attorney said with a satisfied nod.

His easy gait and small smile made the other attorney's blood bubble angrily as he turned back toward his table. He picked up a sheet of paper breezily and then walked back up to the stand.

"Detective, tell me," he said, holding it out. "Have you ever seen this before?"

Casey froze in surprise and trepidation.

_What the hell- what could that be?_

As if mimicking her thoughts, the detective on the stand looked at the man in startled caution as he slowly reached out for the piece of paper.

The room was silent. Olivia watched her partner, guarded and suspicious of the defense attorney's action, but the expression he made after a minute turned her unease into fear.

Elliot stared down at the page in absolute horror, his features drawn up in panic and distress.

It was a copy of an APB. From the squad.

About him.

**MISSING**

**New York City Detective Elliot Stabler**

**Gender: Male**

**Height: 6'0"**

**Weight: 185**

**Eyes: Blue**

**Hair: Brown**

**Detective Stabler was last seen on November 14, 2006 and is believed to be in the custody of several assailants, including an escaped felon by the name of Jason David Evans. They could possibly be driving a 1980 Dodge Ram van, color black, with J-Y-B included in the license plate number. They are considered armed and dangerous.**

**All precincts are urged to be on the lookout. Any information should be directed to Captain Donald Cragen of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.**

"Detective."

Jumping, Elliot's head flew back up to look at Haskins. The man was looking at him coolly.

"Have you ever seen this before?" he repeated.

He looked down again, unable to hide his disturbance.

_What is this? Who made this? _

"No," he answered, the surprise clear in his tone. He blinked uncertainly back up at Haskins. "No, I haven't."

Nodding with a hint of sarcasm, the defense attorney gestured that he wanted the page back. Elliot handed it to him and he turned around facing the jury.

"Missing," he began to read. "New York City Detective Elliot Stabler. He is believed to be in the custody of …several assailants…" he read dramatically, emphasizing the end words and looking up at the jury. "Including an escaped **felon**…named **Jason David Evans**."

He went silent for several seconds to give the jury time to process the words before continuing.

"All precincts are urged to be on the lookout and any information should be directed to Captain Donald Cragen of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit."

He walked back to the table and put the page down. When he turned back around, he folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"So," he said. "Detective Stabler."

He began approaching again, his voice lower and more dangerous.

"Your colleagues…" he went on evenly, "give testimonies to indicate that you were familiar with both defendants, and had **contact **with one of them in the form of an interrogation prior to your…abduction." He said the last word lightly, as if it were questionable. "Yet you can't be sure of it."

"You've given detailed accounts….of horrifying acts of sexual deviance that, you **claim**," he continued to say, "to have been inflicted on you by my clients…but you were only able to successfully identify them…maybe twice throughout questioning."

He stopped right in front of the witness stand and pursed his lips.

"Your partner testified that you have been 'staying' with her for the past few months because," his voice was slightly satirical as he overemphasized the certain words, "you needed 'help' with your care."

He cocked an eyebrow and then delivered his bomb.

"Maybe…you needed 'help' with your story?" he said with mock uncertainty, cocking his head. "Maybe your colleagues 'helped' a little? Perhaps they…made sure you saw that bulletin over there, naming my client as a suspect while you were busy recooperating?"

Seeing the expression of despair on Elliot's face just made him smile.

"Obviously, you've been with this squad a while," he went on. "I'll bet you're a **pro** by now when it comes to describing all of the little…disturbing…details involved in a sex crime."

"Objec-tion!"

Casey's voice was disgusted and shocked as she surged to her feet.

"He's badgering the witness, your Honor," she said angrily. "The medical evidence has already been presented proving sexual abuse by the defendants."

"Sustained," Judge Varella said, looking in disdain toward the defense attorney. "Try another stunt like **that**, Mr. Haskins, and I'll dismiss this whole case."

Haskins pursed his lips and looked at Elliot begrudgingly for a long moment.

"No further questions," he said woodenly, turning away.

Olivia didn't think it was possible to be any more furious than she was at that moment. Her partner looked like he was about to come undone right there on the stand and the damned bastard of an attorney had wanted to make him that way on purpose, to make his story seem questionable.

The judge looked beside him with a softer expression. "You may step down, Detective," he said, his voice more gentle than it had been.

She could see that he was shaking as he fumbled numbly down off of the witness stand back toward them. He was clearly disoriented, and that combined with the way virtually every other person seemed to follow his movements with their eyes was too much for her.

She was on her feet by the time he got to their seat, extending her hand tenderly to his arm in silent understanding as she began walking with him back to the doors again.

This time, though, she was the one who needed the escape.

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Aware that he was becoming angrier by the second, Munch decided on a whim as he watched Olivia and Elliot leaving that he needed some fresh air, too.

Hearing that it was now the defense's turn to call witnesses as he stood up made him even more positive that it was a good idea. He shuffled past Fin out of the bench and was just about to make his way up the aisle when he spotted something that made him pause for a moment before he went to catch up.

He heard the shaking, slightly shrill voice before he was even completely through the doors and it broke his heart when he realized he recognized it. He stopped awkwardly, uncertain if his presence would be intrusive or upsetting to his friend as he watched them across the hall.

"I'm sorry, Olivia-I-" Elliot was trembling and looked to be on the verge of collapsing in a heap, words bubbling up out of him in an anxious spew. Olivia was a few steps behind him, trying to reach out to him as he frantically shook his head. "I couldn't remember-I didn't-" Tears choked him. "I wasn't trying to-I-I-"

"No, no, Elliot-" She was trying to soothe him while attempting to stop his momentum, gently getting hold of his elbow. She stepped up around him quickly and pulled him into her, hugging him before he could retreat. John watched Olivia's tenderness in fascination and sadness, still where he was.

"Honey, you did great," she said lovingly, nodding convincingly over his shoulder as she pressed her hands deep into his back and rubbed. She moved her hand up over his neck for a minute. "It's okay, you did great. There's nothing to worry about."

Even though his posture became noticeably less tense after a long moment, Elliot didn't move back from her. John was sure that it must have been a little uncomfortable for her, standing there forced to support his weight with no assistance, but Olivia's expression seemed to show nothing but perfect understanding. She kept her hold and occasionally murmured other words of praise until he was ready to back away.

He swallowed, looking slightly ashamed, and John started guiltily. He hadn't meant to stare and hoped they wouldn't notice him.

She kept contact with his shoulder and gently rubbed when he sniffled. She made sure she stayed focused on his face and not let her eyes slide sideways to where she knew Munch had been standing the whole time, not sure if her partner knew or how it might make him feel.

He didn't meet her eyes, his gaze instead darting nervously around their feet. "Can we go now, Olivia?" He was still feeling too overwhelmed and couldn't find the energy to make his voice any louder than a weary murmur. "Do we have to stay anymore?"

This time she did let herself look over at the other man because her partner seemed to be steadily concentrating on the linoleum patterns of the floor. The pain she saw in John's face shouldn't have surprised her, but for some reason it still did. She pursed her lips empathetically towards him, as if knowing his thoughts were the same as hers without having to say it.

"Yeah."

Her gaze still remained locked with Munch's for a minute as she answered before she turned back toward Elliot. She rubbed his shoulder again with new fervor, as if having shaken herself back to the present situation.

"Yeah," she repeated, putting a smile on her face and concentrating on her partner again. "We'll go back to the hotel…maybe we can order a movie or something, huh? Maybe some room service too." She tried her best to eject enthusiasm to mask her inner despair from him. "Want to do that?"

At that point all Elliot wanted to do was fall into a bed, but he nevertheless nodded agreement, if only to make sure they really were going back to the hotel. She smiled again in reassurance this time before turning completely to face where the other man stood.

Munch started again and then harshly chastised himself, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. It proved harder than he expected because he could tell the moment Elliot reluctantly looked over as well that he had known the whole time that he had been there.

"Um-" He cleared his throat quickly and tried to walk toward them casually. "I just-um-"

Cursing himself for his fair complexion that he knew gave away his blush, John reached up to adjust his glasses in an anxious gesture he hadn't ever been able to break. Unable to think of something that didn't sound completely stupid, he held his arm out toward Elliot somewhat nervously.

"You, um-you-you left this," he stammered awkwardly, hoping that his smile looked like normal so Elliot would know that he wasn't trying to condescend him as he offered the plush rabbit gripped gently with his fingers. "Just-wanted to make sure you didn't forget it."

His friend looked him over hesitantly for a brief moment before stepping slightly up toward him, reaching to take the object from him. "Thank you," he said quietly, letting his eyes stay up for a moment before going back down.

From behind him, his partner gave John a small smile that she hoped he would decipher. She wasn't trying to be rude, but she didn't intend to make her partner stay here one second longer than he wanted to.

She was relieved when she saw his answering nod and warm expression. He understood.

Still, he was unable to resist reaching out carefully to brush over Elliot's shoulder before they turned away. He made sure not to grip and was deliberately slow with his movement so he wouldn't startle him.

"Good job, buddy," he said softly, his eyes narrowing with emotion.

He nodded in conviction when his friend timidly locked eyes with him for the briefest of seconds, hoping to convey what words couldn't.

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He waited for her to seat herself and get comfortable, even smiled while doing so.

Casey had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

Haskins nodded at the bailiff after he lowered the Bible and waited again until the man resumed his position to approach the stand.

"Doctor Olivet," he began. "Is it true that you have been seeing Detective Elliot Stabler as one of your recent patients?"

Elizabeth primly ran her hands lightly down the sides of her skirt in a smoothing fashion for a moment. "Yes," she replied easily.

The attorney made a slightly confused expression to make his point, though he kept his voice light. "You don't normally work with adults," he commented, not being argumentative but making the statement somewhat blunt.

She stared at him for a moment, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I received a master's degree in psychology from Cornell University," she said, "and a PH.D in clinical child and adolescent psychology from Columbia University. I am also licensed by the state of New York to diagnose and treat illness." She raised an eyebrow pointedly toward Haskins.

"So, to answer your question…" The brow twitched slightly. "My office works with adolescents ranging in age from young children to teenagers and that is where my practices usually focus…but I do have the qualifications to treat adults as well. It doesn't happen often, but it can."

"I see." His voice had become dry and it made Casey smirk immaturely. "Tell me...when it does happen, do you pick the patient or is the patient referred to you by someone else?"

She gave it a moment of thought. "Usually they're referred."

"How many adults have you worked with in your career that _weren't _referred?" Haskins asked almost immediately, zoning in on her response like a hawk.

Doctor Olivet's face tightened ever so slightly and her mouth set in a line of controlled annoyance.

Casey noticed.

"None," she replied briskly.

Haskins nodded easily. "So who referred Detective Stabler to you?"

Her expression became slightly reluctant, as if she wished she didn't have to answer. "No one," she said. At the defense attorney's raised eyebrow and amused twitch of mouth, she pursed her lips. "I began seeing him at the request of Captain Cragen….he felt that _because_ of my experience working with children it might be more beneficial for Detective Stabler to talk to me as opposed to a regular psychologist. I've also had past history assisting the Special Victims Unit with cases and we thought he might be more comfortable because of our knowing each other."

"When did you start the sessions?" he wanted to know.

"Around…the middle of January," Liz recalled, after thinking a moment.

"Uh-huh."

Casey swore that the look on the man's face became absolutely predatory and she felt her stomach coil.

"When did Captain Cragen request your assistance, Doctor Olivet?"

His voice was smooth. He knew what he was doing.

So did Casey. _God __**damn**__ it!_

"I…can't be positive," she hedged.

Her voice sounded strained. She could tell where this was going, too, and she didn't like it.

"Can you speculate?" Haskins was nothing if not persistent.

Liz pursed her lips. "Sometime in December, I suppose."

"So then," he went on thoughtfully, "why did you wait until January to start the sessions?

She paused a minute. "I…_we_-wanted to leave the decision up to Elliot if he wanted them or not."

"Oh." His voice was dramatically condescending now. "I see. So…then, January is when the detective requested to start seeing you?"

Doctor Olivet was quiet for a moment before reluctantly answering.

"No," she finally said. "He never requested." She inhaled slowly. "Detective Benson called asking for my help."

Haskins tilted his head up and his voice dropped. His tone became serious. "What was the problem?"

"Objection, your Honor," Casey interjected, rising. "Speculation."

"Sustained," Judge Varella said.

The other attorney pursed his lips. "What did Detective Benson _tell you _the problem was?" he rephrased with deliberate patience. "Why was she asking for your help?

Liz looked down for a second. "She told me that Detective Stabler had started cutting himself."

He went silent for a minute before nodding. Casey was sure it was solely for theatric effect.

"How many sessions have you had with him so far?" he asked.

"Four," she replied.

"What kind of behavior," he went on thoughtfully, "have you observed from him during the sessions?"

"Objection," Casey interrupted again anxiously, before the doctor could speak. "Relevance?"

"I'm just trying to gain insight into Detective Stabler's state of mind, your Honor," Haskins defended himself readily.

The judge looked between them like they were a pair of siblings arguing over whose turn it was to gain control of the television remote.

"Overruled," he said.

She sat down resignedly and clenched her nails into her palm. Haskins glanced at her and then back to Doctor Olivet.

"Doctor?" he prompted.

Liz's voice softened in obvious pain over the words. "Extremely tense, hyper vigilant…very frightened." She shook her head, disturbed. "It often took nearly half the session before he was calm enough to talk to me."

"Did you sense anything alarming? Anything that…caused concern?" he went on.

She considered her words. "He…has been showing a bit of unusual behavior uncommon for adults," she said carefully. "But certainly nothing I would consider alarming-"

She bit her lip, reflexively using her hands to further express her speech.

"He seems to have developed a bit of….a regressive mentality, so to speak. He's become attached to a plush rabbit, for example- gets upset if he isn't able to have it with him at all times." Her eyes were shining with sympathy. "He's revealed that he suffers from nightmares and vivid night terrors that keep him from sleep…has said on more than one occasion that often he likes to spend the whole day wrapped up in a blanket because it makes him feel safe."

"What do you talk about during each session?" Haskins asked.

"How he's feeling…how the day has been," she answered. "We're steadily trying to work on ways to make him feel safe and comfortable in his everyday life."

"And how is that going so far?" he asked.

She paused, her expression showing regret. "Slowly," she admitted with a hint of sympathy. "It appears to be one of his biggest hurdles at the moment."

"What are his other hurdles, Doctor?"

Her face twisted a bit and she had to think a moment.

"Uncertainty," she decided. "He's timid around the people he had constant contact with in the past, as if he's unsure he should trust them." She thought some more. "Depression…indicates that he feels dirty and damaged, and believes he is worthless…often talks about wanting to die."

From his seat, Fin flinched unexpectedly and he thought his heart might crack.

Haskins nodded. His face and voice remained deadly serious.

"Based on what you've just told us, Doctor," he said, stepping closer to him, "does Detective Stabler seem able to think and act rationally at this current moment in time?"

Casey's stomach went to her feet and she looked down quickly.

Liz inhaled deeply and shook her head reluctantly. "No," she replied heavily. "He does not."

"In your professional opinion, then," he went on, "would it be fair to say that perhaps his ability to recall events accurately should be considered compromised?"

The other woman shot to her feet fast. "Objection."

"Sustained," the judge replied.

Dwight's mouth set as if he was amused as he backed away. "Nothing further," he relented.

"Doctor Olivet," Casey immediately took over, standing. "Has Detective Stabler ever expressed to you _why _he doesn't feel safe?"

Liz nodded. "Oh, yes," she replied with conviction, her expression opening again. "He has spoken several times about his fear of his kidnappers returning to take him away again."

Casey nodded. "So…he's afraid of them, then?"

"Very," she said. "It is obvious just mentioning it that he is completely terrified of them."

The attorney nodded again compassionately and then paused a moment. "The behavior you mentioned seeing during your sessions…" She paused again to see the doctor nod. "Have you seen behavior like that before in any of your other patients?"

"Yes," Liz again answered quickly. "The sort of behavior Detective Stabler has been displaying so far bears strong similarities to adolescents I have counseled…children who are victims of severe trauma will often show signs of regression- they may…act out, cry, forget how to care for themselves. Attachment to a certain toy or object is almost always noticed as well."

"And what about some of the other behaviors?" Casey went on. "Could there be a medical explanation for his nightmares?

"Nightmares are the brain's way of working off stress," Liz began. "Having them is normal, but a high frequency can be a sign of excessive stress or overwhelming that can interfere with a person's daily activities."

"However, night terrors are almost always only displayed in children up to about the age of 7," she went on. "The presence of them in an adult is practically non-existent and is usually attributed to a head injury of some kind that triggers the adrenal glands in the brain at irregular intervals during sleep."

"Could the presence of the concussion Detective Stabler sustained be a possible factor?" Casey asked.

"Yes," she replied. "In fact, I believe it is the _underlying_ factor."

"Thank you, Doctor Olivet," Casey said. "Nothing further."

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The Pay-Per-View selections were disappointingly uninteresting. After flipping through them twice, Olivia began looking through the cable channels dejectedly. At her side, Elliot remained quietly curled with his back facing her, his arm wrapped around his rabbit and holding it close to his face.

It had startled her when they had gotten inside and he had climbed onto her bed instead of going over to the one he had been using. She had thought maybe he had just been too tired to exert the energy required for the few steps over to the other bed and hadn't commented as she immediately began sitting on his bed.

But then he had tearfully protested and she quickly realized that being on her bed wasn't the issue- he wanted _her_ on the bed with him. He had appeared content as soon as she settled beside him and she couldn't deny feeling relieved.

She called room service like she'd promised. With the way she was feeling at the moment, he could have asked her for a steak dinner and she would have ordered it without complaint.

He had stared at the menu for a long time before asking for chicken noodle soup and Dr. Pepper.

Continuing to flip through the channels, Olivia shifted her legs further into the Indian-style she had them in as she leaned against the headboard and sighed remorsefully when she saw the pickings on cable were just as bad.

Her lips formed a slight pout and she reluctantly stopped at the preview channel again.

"How about _The Day After Tomorrow_?" she said after a minute, glancing down at him.

To be honest, she had never really liked the movie, feeling it had bored her the first time she'd seen it. But unfortunately it seemed like the most promising choice among the channels. Elliot didn't reply, so after a minute she turned to the channel and put the remote down.

The movie was near the beginning…she recognized the scene where the giant hail stones began pelting down on the Chinese people as she shifted backwards a little to prop herself more comfortably against the pillows.

There was no sound next to her. Glancing over at him, Olivia gently rested her hand on his back as she turned her attention back to the screen. From the breaths she could feel, she figured that now that he was full, he probably was going to go to sleep.

So it startled her when, ten minutes later, she suddenly heard his voice. It was soft, but didn't sound sleepy.

"Olivia?"

She turned her head in surprise from the movie to where her hand still rested on his back. He was still turned away from her.

"Hmm?" she responded tenderly.

She moved her hand up to his shoulder and rubbed gently. He said nothing and she was confused when she felt his breathing evening out again.

_Probably just talking in his sleep_, she considered with a small smile.

Carefully continuing to rub his shoulder, she looked back to the television. Then a minute later, he suddenly shifted to face her.

His expression was troubled.

"Hey," she said tenderly, in soft concern. Her thumb traveled over the bone in his shoulder. She gazed at him for a minute, uncertain, when he just stared at her. "You alright?"

He took a breath through his nose quietly.

"Tell me about when you found me," he requested quietly. His voice was soft and sounded dreading.

Her hand froze on his shoulder.

**Author's Note: Come hell or high water, there will only be one more chapter. My head is going to explode…one more chapter, that's all I can take. Please, please, please….stay with me. Please.**

**I can't stress enough how much I really want to see reviews here. If every person that is listed as having this story on their alerts list was leaving reviews, there probably wouldn't be enough pages to accommodate them all. ** **What's with the loss of interest?**


	64. Chapter 64

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**Author's Note: I apologize for the brief hiatus. Sorry, but I lied- this was supposed to be the last chapter, but I ended up having to split it into another part. It was becoming, for lack of better terms, a beast and I felt bad making you have to sit for so long reading it!**

"The defense wishes to call Ethan Jones to the stand," Haskins said cordially, turning toward his clients.

Casey watched the defendant rise gracefully from his seat and make his way to the witness box, her eyes glued to his every move like a bird of prey. She watched him while the bailiff approached to swear him in and didn't look away as the standard prattle began again.

Her mind flashed back to her visit to the correctional facility. She remembered the way this man had been so tightly restrained and the wariness of the security personnel.

"_Nobody talks about me that way and gets away with it." His growl was so rough that she couldn't help the shiver from coursing down her spine. "__**Nobody**__."_

"_Did Elliot?" Her voice had become lower but somehow seemed more deadly. "Is that why you did this, Ethan?"_

"…and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

The silence made her snap out of her thoughts. Her eyes zeroed in on the man sitting on the stand again in time to see something that made her fists automatically clench tight in her lap.

He was smiling.

Fucking _smiling_.

"Yes," he replied, nodding. His voice was as innocent as a boy trying to please his parents. "I do."

She was caught off-guard when his eyes abruptly shifted to focus on her, his face still curved into that angelic grin.

_He's a manipulator. _

After everything she'd been through with this case, the fact that she was finding herself genuinely flabbergasted was surprising. But she couldn't help it…once again she was absolutely, sickeningly, amazingly appalled by the nerve of this lowlife, sorry-excuse-for-a human being.

_He's a complete, conniving, scandalous __**manipulator**__. My God…he's controlling this like it's a fucking circus and we're his clowns. _

Casey set her mouth in a firm line and narrowed her eyes dangerously as Jones let his attention shift smugly back to his lawyer. She worked her tongue around her teeth with a vengeance.

_Not this time, Ethan Jones. You may have had power over helpless victims...let's see how tough you are against the entire state of New York and the largest police force in the country just frothing at the mouth to give you a taste of your own medicine. _

Her lips curved into her own smile, but this one held no amusement whatsoever.

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The lump in her throat suddenly intensified and she had to stop to swallow.

She had found during the ten minutes or so she had been talking that if she focused her attention on the obscure watercolor framed on the hotel room wall beside the bed as she spoke she was able to keep the images of her words from coming back. Talking at the wall allowed her to entertain the fantasy that she was simply recalling a vivid dream, that the words she was saying represented figments of imagination instead of chunks of her soul she'd had ripped away.

It was cheating and she knew it, and so she hadn't been able to bear looking his way as she spoke of the events of the night that had changed life as she had known it. Bare facts, a skeleton assembly devoid of personal reflection.

Received call. Went to Niagara. Searched house. Searched outside. Discovered pier. Got him to helicopter. Flew to hospital.

No mention of the sleepless nights in her apartment when the thought of trying to get through another day seemed not worth the effort. Or of the night _Before_….after the first night at the hospital Olivia buried the night of his rescue from her heart, refusing to acknowledge it as anything except just _Before_...when she was faced with remnants of the body she believed to be his lying in a subway terminal and had felt the entire world around her stop.

She didn't tell him about how on the very morning of the day he was taken, the idle thought of why it had been so long since she had called him to talk about something that didn't relate to their job skimmed her mind for some reason as she was getting dressed for work. She'd left the apartment thinking she would ask if he wanted to get together that weekend just to catch up because it had somehow been so long since they'd last really socialized.

She had sat on her couch later that night, petrified and still in a state of shock because she just couldn't grasp having her best friend suddenly gone, and the thought had fleeted across her mind that maybe this was some kind of punishment. Perhaps the God she refused to believe in wanted to teach her a lesson about taking the good things in her life for granted.

The sound of shifting next to her broke through the haze of memories. She shook herself and looked beside her only to be slightly startled when she saw Elliot turning over away from her.

Swallowing, Olivia stared at his back and bit her lip in uncertainty. She knew inside that he had to be in turmoil over what she had been telling him, but she didn't know what to say. After a few moments of tense silence, she finally settled on softly saying his name in as close to a neutral tone as she could manage so he wouldn't feel she was trying to pity him or placate him, but still trying to convey how much she knew he was hurting.

There was no reply and the word eventually evaporated heavily into the awkwardness. He didn't turn back toward her and if not for the rise and fall she could see of his back, she would have wondered if he was even conscious.

She sat quietly beside him and listened to the silence of the room until his voice rose up quietly. He didn't move to face her and she hardly even saw his muscles moving in his body at all.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

One sentence and then he went back to just breathing.

The tears were hot and uncomfortable as she continued blinking rapidly in time to the movement of his back muscles.

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Haskins nodded in agreement, his tone so nonchalant that it seemed as if he was discussing something with an old fraternity brother from college instead of someone he was being paid to defend to the state.

"The prosecution is alleging that the abduction took place on November 14, 2006," he said. "Please explain to the court what you remember happening on that day, Mr. Jones."

"Sure," Jones replied obediently with charm in his voice. He looked earnestly toward the jury with an angelic expression and Casey wanted to curl her lips in disgust so badly that she had to lower her head to control the impulse. "My old man had a summer home near Lake Harmony that he left to me when he died...I decided to drive there to relax for a few days and invited a few buddies up to stay for the weekend."

He paused a moment with pursed lips and made a point to appear like he was racking his brain. "So…the 14th...what was that, a Tuesday?" he asked, his voice sounding uncertain as he looked to his lawyer for confirmation. Casey again had to clench her teeth.

At the other man's answering nod, Jones went on with his story. "I think, uh…I remember it was nasty out that day, really cloudy and cold. Yeah, I didn't really do much that day…slept in, watched some TV. Some of my buddies wanted to order out and I chipped in for pizza." He looked over at Judge Varella with an innocent expression and what sounded like schooled nervousness. "Um, I-I can show a receipt if that helps."

"No, no." Dwight was swift to intercede with a confident wave of his hand and a reassuring smile. "It's alright, that isn't necessary." He smiled at his client like a comrade. "Who were the 'buddies' you mentioned staying with you?"

"Uh, just-just some old friends," Ethan replied, as if he had been anticipating the question. At the moment of awkward silence, he glanced at the judge and spoke again quickly. "Some guys I used to work construction with."

Haskins nodded. "Did you get any phone calls that day?" he asked curiously. "Unusual visitors?" Ethan shook his head and the attorney continued on. "Did you leave the house for any reason…trip to the store, anything like that?"

"No," Ethan said.

The defense attorney stepped closer to the witness stand and paused a moment. When he delivered his question, the words were precise and dramatic. "Did you have any contact with Detective Elliot Stabler prior to or during the day in question?"

"No," the man repeated, shaking his head. His jaw was set and his eyes were steeled with determination toward the jury again. "Like I said…I had never heard of him or knew anything about him."

Haskins nodded and backed off. "Thank you," he said to his client. He looked at Judge Varella. "No further questions."

For a moment, Casey could only sit back in shock. She had to pause a minute to get her bearings before collecting some papers and getting dutifully to her feet.

Still slightly appalled, she stood still in silence for a few seconds before clearing her throat.

"Mr. Jones," she said. She paused again, unable to stop the question from forming. "You….do realize that you are under oath right now, correct?" Her sentence was almost drawled, as if she was unclear of the answer she would receive.

The defendant looked at her as if amused.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied respectfully, a hint of a gleam in his eye.

Her brow furrowed in a reflex reaction as she stared at him silently again but she just nodded slowly, cocking her head.

"Who did you say you were with on the 14th of November?" she asked somewhat hesitantly.

He regarded her like he was surprised by her question and she used the moment of silence to scrutinize his face. She wasn't sure exactly what it was she expected to see in his eyes, but for some reason beyond even herself Casey was hoping for a speck of some kind of discomfort, some sign to reassure her faith in humanity and squelch the notion that this man could actually tell bold-faced lies in a court of law without flinching.

Then his face was hard again. He didn't even blink as he replied.

"Construction buddies," Jones repeated, sounding slightly annoyed.

She stared at him again, totally aghast. Her voice became cold and detached.

"Construction buddies."

She repeated the words flatly and narrowed her eyes at him when she finished. Jones scoffed a little, dramatically so as to show how demeaning and wasteful he considered her line of questions, and shook his head as if she was an inferior.

"Yes," he said with exaggerated patience that screamed of condescension.

"Are you close friends?" she asked idly, shifting weight on one foot casually.

From the corner of her eye she could see Dwight sitting ramrod straight and jiggling a pen madly between his fingers. It was obvious how disconcerted he was becoming and she could tell he was a half-breath from jumping up to object. Oddly enough, it was giving her a strange sliver of perverse glee.

Jones shrugged as if the question disgusted him. "I don't know…not really," he said, his tone almost bordering on being rude. "I mean, we went out for beers sometimes after work, but we didn't….like, have _pajama parties_ or take trips to the mall or anything if that's what you mean by _close_." The sarcasm dripped from his lips.

She just nodded as if she really hadn't wanted details in the first place. She looked down at her papers for a moment. "What was the name of the construction company you worked for?"

"Objection!"

_And…there it is_, she thought in annoyance at the sound of Haskins' booming voice. She rolled her eyes down at her papers but obediently paused.

"_How_ are the People's questions relevant to this case?" the defense attorney went on angrily.

Casey didn't turn, but the tone of his voice behind her supplied her mind with a mental picture that made her bit her lip to keep from giggling. She imagined the lanky lawyer standing up in front of the table with his hands set prissily on his hips, swishing his head back and forth dramatically to make his gelled coif swing away from his forehead like some kind of beauty icon.

She kept her gaze on Judge Varella. The older man looked at her with disapproving question and a warningly set of raised eyebrows demanding an explanation.

"I have a point, your Honor," she insisted courteously. "I assure you these questions are legitimately tied to it."

The judge said nothing for a moment and looked her over before narrowing his eyes in reproach.

"I will allow you to continue," he finally granted hesitantly, nodding, and then his voice became edged with warning. "But you're on thin ice, Counselor." She felt herself flush slightly under his heavy stare of authority. "Move along to the matter at hand."

She nodded immediately. "Yes, of course, your Honor," she replied graciously.

The judge looked at the defendant and instructed him to answer her. Jones scowled, looking at her bitterly. "What was the question?"

She replied without missing a beat. "The name of the constriction company where you worked, Mr. Jones," she said, her voice matter-of-fact.

His expression was scornful and annoyed. "Turner."

She nodded and stared at him. "What year did you start working there?"

"2000," he answered, staring right back at her.

She looked at her papers once more and continuing spouting out questions without feeling as if in a rhythm. "How long were you employed there?"

"Two years."

"And what was your foreman's name?"

"Your Honor-!"

Haskins jumped to his feet again, protesting with clear indignation, but before he could say another word Judge Varella was speaking to her in disdain.

"That's enough, Ms. Novak," he said harshly. He was looking at her so angrily that she had to fight the urge to gulp. "I suggest you give me a compelling explanation for these questions to prove them not to be just a waste of our time."

Looking at Jones in disgust, Casey turned back toward her table and spoke to the judge clearly as she organized more papers into a stack. "The reason behind the questions, your Honor," she began, "is to prove to the jury that the defendant's testimony is fabricated and that not only is he committing perjury with his statements, he is attempting to cover up his involvement in the assault on Detective Stabler."

"Objection!" Haskins said again. This time she did look at him, one eyebrow cocked in hidden amusement. He stared back at her venomously before looking imploringly toward the judge. "She-"

It surprised them both when Judge Varella interrupted him. "Overruled," he said.

She almost couldn't believe it. By the tone of his voice and the way he was suddenly assessing her silently, he appeared….curious.

"Proceed, Counselor," he said.

Haskins sat down in disbelief.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia decided to resume watching the movie when she received no indication that Elliot was going to move from his position rolled away from her. An hour and a half later, she blinked in shock when she saw the ending credits rolling across the screen.

She didn't remember even seeing the rest of it.

Aiming the remote, she switched off the television and sat listening to the silence for a few moments. The only noise to accompany her thoughts was the pattern of soft breathing beside her, not quite regular enough to be sleeping ones.

Antsy after sitting still so long, she moved over off of the bed with a soft sigh and lifted more of the covers over to drape his stretched-out frame. She used the bathroom and then walked over to the desk, dropping down into the chair.

Her bottle of Pepsi she'd taken out of the cooler earlier that morning was where she had left it beside her novel. It had long since lost the carbonation and was warm now, but she untwisted the cap and drank it anyway while finding the page she had left off on.

She wasn't sure how long she sat reading, but hearing her partner's voice broke her concentration abruptly.

"Liv."

Turning her head in surprise, she thumbed the page and looked at him warmly. "Yeah?"

Elliot dropped his head forward wearily with a grimace, as if it was sore, and let out a long sigh. "When are we going home?"

The question startled her a bit. She hadn't really thought about it since making the reservations for the room.

"Um...well, I-I was thinking we'd rest up today and then leave in the morning," she said.

He closed his eyes with another sigh. His right hand came up and began massaging the back of his neck stiffly.

"Can we leave today?" he asked quietly, his voice flat and dull. He may as well have been asking about the weather report.

She was startled again. Almost immediately, her brain began going over tender cajoles to tell him. Wouldn't he like to just relax? Wouldn't it feel better to wait, get something good for dinner and a good night's sleep?

But then he brought his eyes up without moving his head, just staring at her and waiting for what she would say. She knew, the second she looked into that beautiful blue that always had the power to unravel her…she knew. It brought her to her knees. It always did.

Olivia narrowed her eyes slightly and then shook her head in defeat.

"Yeah," she said with a barely-there sigh of resigned amusement. "Sure we can."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Casey stepped up to the bench to hand Judge Varella a copy of the page and then walked back toward the witness box where Jones sat with a mutinous scowl on his face. The judge put on his glasses and began to scan the page as she started to read aloud from the one she held.

"Mr. Jones," she began. "A copy of your incarceration records from the New York Department of Correctional Services." She held it in front of him so he could see it but he just kept glaring at her. "Reviewed and signed by one Mr. Brian Fischer, Commissioner and acting warden."

She cleared her throat and began to read. "Prisoner number 41554, Ethan Sanders Jones," she relayed. "Orleans Correctional Facility. Convicted July 18th, 1993 of one count of possession of an illegal substance, one count of possession of an illegal substance with intent to distribute. Sentenced to five years medium security incarceration. Full term served; prisoner released July 21st, 1998.

Attica Correctional Facility. Convicted January 10th, 1999 of two counts possession of a deadly weapon. Sentenced to four years maximum security. Two years incarceration, two years suspended sentence with monitoring. Full term served; prisoner released January 12, 2003."

Casey stopped reading and let the air hang with silence for a moment, just staring at the defendant. Her lips formed a thin line as she moved the page to the bottom of the small stack she held.

"Mr. Jones," she said carefully. "Assuming these records are accurate and that there are no discrepancies, you were sent to prison in 1999 and not released until 2003." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that would make it impossible for you to have been employed by Turner Construction in the year 2000, wouldn't it?"

Jones' face was a cold, unreadable mask. He shrugged indifferently. "I got my dates wrong, then," he said easily.

She raised a questioning eyebrow and turned on her heel, going back to the judge's bench. "A copy of the deposition you gave at the start of this proceeding," she said, handing another page to the judge. She began reading aloud once more as she returned back to the box

"'Prosecution: What construction company were you employed under?'" she read in script-like fashion. "'Defendant: Turner Construction. Prosecution: What year did you start working for Turner Construction? Defendant: 2000.'" She stopped and looked up at the defendant. "So…you got your dates mixed up then, too?"

It was obvious by her tone that she was being facetious and didn't expect a reply. He didn't give her one.

"However," she continued, on a roll, "according to a statement given by a representative of foreman Herschel Meyers for Turner Construction, you are correct in that you _did _in fact have history with the company." She held out yet another document in both hands in front of the defendant. "Mr. Myers filed a lawsuit against you in October of 1998 for destruction of private property and threats of malice against a public official…claiming that you took a sledgehammer to the front window of Mr. Myers home and told him you were going to kill him-"

"Objection," Haskins said quickly, standing up fast. "Those claims were dismissed and the lawsuit against my client was dropped."

"Yes," she said quickly, knowing she had to be fast as she turned toward the judge. "Yes, that's correct, your Honor, the lawsuit was dropped two weeks later. However, according to Myers, the actions I described were alleged to have occurred _after_ the lawsuit was in motion."

Judge Verella looked somewhat wary, but nodded his head for her to continue and overruled the objection once more.

Casey faced the witness again with a leveled gaze. "The suit filed against you was for harassment, in which Myers claims you subjected him with after he denied your application for employment," she went on.

She paused a minute, gauging to see if the man was going to say anything, but he didn't and she kept going readily. "_Denied_." She raised an eyebrow. "You were not hired by Turner Construction in October of 1998, and according to the employment records there is no record of you having turned in any more applications to that company seeking a job there prior to your incarceration in January of 1999."

Stopping again briefly, she flipped to another page in her small stack.

"So," she went on, "considering you never _worked_ for the construction company, I have to wonder just how exactly you were associated with the 'construction buddies' you claim to have been with."

Jones was still looking at her with the same smug expression. The gleam that she could see had been lost from his eyes was now shining in hers and she wondered if even he would be so stupid as to further try to justify himself amidst the lies crumbling around him.

"One of your co-defendants, Jeffrey Pendleton," she continued, "claimed during his testimony that the house you mentioned actually belonged to _his_ father and had been left to him in his will…he also claimed to have met you and your other four co-defendants there on November 14th, 2006 before you made a fake phone call to the Manhattan Special Victims Unit to report a false crime that would send Detective Stabler and his partner to the meat-packing facility where, he claimed, you told them to go and seize him from."

Her green eyes were positively icy now. Jones scowled.

"So," she said, softer. "Do you still wish to stick to your claim of having been with construction buddies on November 14, 2006?"

Jones looked at her mutinously without a word and she stared back at him, unwavering.

"Mr. Jones." Judge Varella's voice prompted after only a moment, causing the man to look over and up slightly. The judge's face was tight and unforgiving. "Please answer the question."

Shaking his head in annoyance, the defendant sighed rudely and made a negative gesture with his eyebrows.

"Oh, alright," he finally said with a dramatic sigh, amused at the tension obvious around them. "No." The way his lips curled up into a smirk made Casey's blood pulsate. I wasn't with any construction buddies."

She nodded viciously, her words biting. "Uh-huh," she acknowledged angrily. "And who _were_ you with?" It came out as a warning.

He rolled his eyes and looked too amused for his own good. "Jason, Matt, Jeff, Travis, John, and Jim," he replied.

"Your other co-defendants." It was not a question, and he didn't take it as one, just nodding. "Where were you?"

"Lake house, like I said," he said easily. "It does belong to Jeff. He wasn't lying."

She paced measured steps up and down a small path in front of the witness stand, her head turning slightly for a moment to look out into the observing crowd. Her eyes met the brown ones of the young man seated uncomfortably near the last row and he ducked his head when he saw the direction of her gaze.

"One of the previous witnesses we've heard from today," she said, turning sharply back towards Jones. "Your half-brother, Jesse Madison…testified under oath about you coming to see him at the Mid-State Correctional Facility where he was currently serving time for a criminal misdemeanor a few days prior to the abduction. He claimed that you said you needed his help and was willing to set up for him to break out of custody if he would do you the favor." She eyed him squarely. "Was he telling the truth?"

"Yes."

His answer came easily now and she wondered in the back of her mind if it was the frustration factor he thrived on, if that's why he'd played with his testimony. He seemed to like to see how far he could push people.

She nodded. "And did you help him escape?"

"Yes," he repeated.

"Did you tell him what it was you wanted his help with?" she asked.

He smirked. "No, of course I didn't," he said, as if the answer should have been obvious. His eyes went past her into the crowd for a moment in amusement and Casey knew instinctively he was looking at Jesse. He chuckled with disturbing affection. "He worries too much about getting in trouble….if I told him what we were doing he would have pussed out for sure."

Casey went silent for precisely five heartbeats, long enough to make the lack of stimulation noticeable to the jury panel.

"Oh, yes." Her voice turned somewhat gravelly. "That's right. What you were doing." Turning swiftly, she was in front of her table in two strides. "Your Honor," she said, leafing through the stack of papers. She extracted a few and then picked up the small clear bag of evidence she had previously introduced. "With your permission, I would like to introduce a copy of an interview conducted by myself of both defendants during holding."

The judge nodded acquiescence. Casey held onto the bag with her left hand and held out the papers with the other.

"As required by New York Federal Law," she said, "the prosecution is mandated to offer any defendants involved in a felonious charge the opportunity to give a detailed account of his or her own actions, to be transcribed prior to any trial proceedings for use on behalf of the defendant." She paused and looked at Jones. "Just to be clear, please state for the jury whether or not you were given this opportunity in the presence of myself and Mr. Haskins."

Ethan nodded in amusement. "I was."

"And please clarify," she went on, "that you decided not to take advantage of this, meaning you chose not to give any details concerning your involvement."

He nodded again. "That is correct," he agreed. "I was given the opportunity and I chose not to participate."

"Thank you. I have here a copy of the verbal response you gave when questioned about your involvement in the sexual abuse of Detective Elliot Stabler." Casey walked closer to the witness box and held out the page expectantly in front of Jones. "Please read the highlighted passages aloud."

Ethan's face displayed his surprise at the request followed by discomfort as he glanced at the jury and then the judge. He cleared his throat awkwardly twice and leaned forward, taking the document and looking down at the words.

He immediately realized that only a small number of sentences had been marked with bright color and furrowed his eyebrows in disconcertment. As he scanned the remaining sentences, it became clear that she was indicating almost the very first words of his statement only and had ignored the almost five pages of details that had followed.

Instantly his blood pressure began to rise and he gripped the page tighter to stay in control, but he could already feel his insides seething.

If there was one thing known about Ethan Jones, it was that he never did _anything_ with less than perfect precision and planning…any one of his numerous former cellmates could present a _plethora_ of enticing corroborations. These morons in front of him right now could even figure it out with no trouble if they'd just asked.

He could have shown them the pillowcase he'd used during his stint at Orleans- it had taken him a week to notice the small bleach drip that he'd accidentally gotten on it during washing, and he'd had to instantly fake an illness so that he could pass the laundry room on his way to the infirmary, unable to relax until he was able to swipe another bleach pad so he could turn the spot into an acceptably-sized circle that didn't look so uneven.

Or he could have dragged out each of the 47 or so-odd wall calendars he'd managed to get sent to him during his years in different prisons, the days ticked off with strokes of his Sharpie, each one requiring exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds before becoming perfect. He still had every one of them, tattered pages and wrinkled covers tucked into a cardboard box he kept in a friend's basement. It was bad luck to throw them out.

"'It wasn't right. He had to be taught a lesson'," he read. He tried not to let the gleefulness slip into his voice as he recalled the interview in his head. "'I'm used to resistant students, but there was something different about him….something _stimulating_. I found myself wanting to fuck him until his balls exploded and he begged for more. Normally, I stop if they start to bleed…"

He paused suddenly and the smile broke out of his own volition.

"But this time I somehow knew he would, so I was prepared for it," he concluded. "It's just like a bitch to be on the rag anyway."

When he stopped talking and looked at her expectantly, the entire courtroom was deathly silent. Casey's heart was burning with rage and complete despair. She had to pause a moment before she could speak.

"Whose words," she managed, "are those that you have just read, Mr. Jones?"

He smiled again.

"Mine," he replied.

She debated for a brief minute over different things to say, but suddenly she was tired, so very tired. Tired of the games, tired of the run-arounds. Tired of being in front of this soulless monster in the form of a human being.

She was realizing, belatedly, that all this time had been spent giving him exactly what he wanted. An audience. He thrived on the attention and he had been successful in getting it by keeping her up there as long as he had.

"Why did you target Detective Stabler, Ethan?" she finally asked, her voice weary now. If he wanted to beat her down until she gave up, she decided, so be it. Fuck him.

The amusement was gone from his face in a split second and he leaned forward slightly, like he had been impatiently waiting all along just for this question.

"Because he's got a big mouth," he said venomously. His voice was unusually soft. "He talks all kinds of shit about people he don't even know and everyone just lets him get away with it." His eyes stared intently into hers as he shook his head firmly. "Not me. No one's gonna talk shit about me…hell if I won't do something about it."

She nodded coldly and looked at him for a long moment, unblinking. "So he said something about you that you didn't like?" she said, her fury barely contained. Her eyebrows rose. "Wow, that hurts man, doesn't it?"

Her voice began becoming dangerously low, the hatred in her eyes flashing stronger than it had the entire time "Well, I can totally understand why that would make you rape and torture him… leave him tied up for four weeks slowly _starving _to death." She stepped almost into his face and he realized that her teeth were almost clenching. "He was just _asking _for it, wasn't he?"

"Objection, your Honor," Haskins interjected bitterly.

Varella sustained the objection and Casey just had to back away, her lip curling in deep disgust. Disgust at this man in front of her and disgust at herself for letting him anger her.

She took a breath and then turned to walk back to her table, plucking up a glossy document. She took another breath, held it, and then turned around again.

"Prosecution will refer back to Exhibit H," she said, directing it toward the jury for a long moment, "a series of photographs taken by Doctor Melinda Warner during the Physical Evidence Recovery Examination performed on Detective Stabler."

She then held it out toward the judge and waited for him to nod his approval. Once he did so, she held the blown-up photograph out in both hands and stepped back toward the witness stand. The photograph depicted a close-up of the smattering of small indentations found on Elliot's backside.

"Mr. Jones," she said carefully. "Can you depict what this picture shows?"

When he just arched an amused eyebrow and didn't say anything, she ever-so-helpfully used her finger to trace along the glossed paper.

"This is a portion of human epidermis," she said matter-of-factly. Running her nail along the near-bottom of the page, she outlined a slight curve. "This shape here is the beginning of the buttock tissue, indicating that the portion of epidermis has to represent the lower backside." She paused, as if she had all the time in the world. "Would you agree?"

"I…guess," he said, shrugging. "Sure, ok."

She nodded. "Doctor Warner has testified during this hearing that, in her medical opinion, she believes these markings," she traced upwards over them, "to have been made by a ring of some kind, specifically one that has a large stone set amongst a circle of smaller ones. Judging from the position of the markings, the only possible way to leave indentations like these-" She held out both of her hands in clenched fists, pressing the knuckles downward as if kneading, "-is to lean over and press the knuckles into the skin"

She suddenly dropped her arms and spoke coldly. "Mr. Jones, please hold out both of your hands."

"Objection!" Haskins said again, outraged. "Your Honor, the prosecution has no legal grounds to subject my client to any physical examinations-"

"-Unless it is needed for verification of evidence," Casey was quick to cut in, nearly slicing the other attorney's sentence off. She looked at Judge Verella almost desperately. "Your Honor, as has already been submitted into evidence, among the personal effects taken from the defendants was a college ring."

She turned back to the table again and fumbled for the clear plastic bag containing the effects, pinching the ring between her fingers to highlight its presence. "I think it only legally justifiable to establish who it belongs to."

Casey was almost amused when Haskins jumped right back in again. "Not the concern of my client," he demanded. "Any indication that he might have worn jewelry at some point can only be deemed coincidental and is irrelevant to the facts at hand."

_Oh, for Christ's sake._ She nearly ripped the bag with her rough separating of the zipper and pulled the ring out into her fingers. "Your Honor," she said, this time with exasperation clear in her voice. "The initials on the underside of this ring are E.S.J, which are the exact ones of this defendant-Ethan Sanders Jones."

Haskins watched the judge hold out his hand for the ring. She stepped up to hand it to him, continuing to speak. "None of the other defendants have those same initials," she went on, "and neither does Detective Stabler. This ring belongs to this defendant and he has the marking on his hand to prove it."

Judge Varella looked at the ring and then at her, contemplating.

"Overruled," he said sternly after a minute. Still holding the ring, he looked over at the witness stand and narrowed his eyes. "Hold out your hands, Mr. Jones."

Scowling, Ethan reluctantly pulled his arms up out of the box and extended them, flexing both hands to reveal the white circle plainly obvious on his right ring finger.

After staring at him a minute more, Casey stepped back.

"Nothing further," she said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The bus was too crowded, too noisy, and altogether just too big of a pain in the ass that day. As he pushed his way up towards the front at his stop, Dickie silently cursed the women's track coach for calling the stupid extra conditioning that afternoon. Men and women's track was supposed to practice _together_, that's why it was called a _team._ It wasn't a big deal for Liz if they had separate practice- _she _had a friend on the team whose mom drove her home on practice days.

She drove all three of them home on practice days, of course, because obviously being twins and on the same track team had to have a benefit _somewhere. _But of course on these days, on _these_ days, when for some reason it seemed fitting in someone's brain to exercise just half of the team and not the whole team, he was stuck leaving school with the rest of the masses on those horrible yellow torture chambers they liked to call school buses.

Halfway up the aisle, some tall kid that looked like a fourth-year junior was standing up and shouting to some friends near the back of the bus, standing with his legs planted wide and slouching comfortably to block all means of escape to the doors. Asking him to move- twice -seemed not to spur comprehension, so Dickie gritted his teeth and had to push his way past.

The kid continuing hooting on, paying no notice to him or the fact that he nearly was sent sprawling into the two girls in the seat across the aisle with his movements. He ended up being whacked hard in the shoulder with a careless flailing elbow and nearly kneed in the crotch by some girl's saxophone case before finally bursting out into the glorious sunshine.

He had forgotten all about the coach as he walked away from the corner with the bus roaring down the street past him…by that point, he was angrily wishing for his twin to break her legs during practice.

The grey pickup truck coming down the street from the other direction wasn't worth his attention until it slowed to a stop beside a curb and Dickie realized it was his house. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the large box he saw being lifted out of the man's truck as he instantly began quickening his pace down the street. He made it up the driveway as the man was climbing the porch steps.

"Can I help you?" he called out, his voice accusing and cautious.

He saw the man whip around and could tell he'd startled him. "Oh," he said, then smiled. "Hello, son…do you live here?"

Dickie's first instinct was to roll his eyes. _No, moron…I just decide to walk up random driveways every day to get my kicks. _ "Yeah," he said.

The man smiled again and Dickie saw that he was older, kind-looking. A stab of guilt rose for his earlier thoughts.

"Just dropping this off," he went on, gesturing to the box as he set it down beside the door. He gave the young man a wide berth as he went back down the steps, waving companionably. "Have a nice day, buddy."

Against his volition, Dickie couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you," he said.

He reached down to pick up the box, noting the contents felt solid but not heavy as he listened to the man getting back in his truck. He turned to watch him leave, making sure the man was on his way before actually reaching in his pocket for his house key, and suddenly noticed the words painted on the side of the truck. **Keens Locksmithing**.

Surprised, he peered down at the box again and saw the same words written on the box as well. It was addressed to his mother.

He shrugged and pushed open the front door, dropping the box on top of the piano and heading for the kitchen.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Biting back the scathing comment just dying to fly out, Casey just shook her head with admirable self-control and turned toward the judge.

"Nothing further, your Honor," she said.

She walked back to the table and sat down carefully, avoiding the eyes of Jason Evans in the witness box and the other two at the table next to hers. She made sure not to turn back for a look but it was still obvious from the not-so-subtle shifts she could hear behind her that the crowd of onlookers was even more restless than they had at the start of her questioning.

She didn't blame them, not really. Observing court proceedings could only captivate attention for so long, no matter what the circumstance. She knew even without looking at her watch that the time had long ago passed "pushing it" and was more likely at the "just hurry the fuck up so we can go _home_, for God's sake" stage now.

It was almost four. They'd been sitting in this courtroom for almost six hours.

At that point, Casey was sympathetic for them and hoped they'd take the chance to get out when it was presented. It was going to be a long deliberation.

"Well…" Judge Varella sounded as weary as she felt, though she was too caught up in her own musings and was barely listening. "If the prosecution has no more questions…"

Thinking about it just pissed her off. If the world was a just place, it _shouldn't _have to be a long deliberation. What _should_ happen is the head juror should stand up in the middle of the judge's dismissing speech and tell him not to bother sending the jury away because everyone felt that the two bastard defendants deserved a one-way ticket to Hell with no return flight.

She fought back a sigh as the twelve members of the jury were dismissed and shuffled out of the courtroom doors. She could hear Varella adjourning the court while saying his usual formalities about allowing anyone who wished to come back to hear the decision, that they should be quiet in the halls whole they waited, etc., etc. etc…

A pinch of pain was starting to throb right between her eyes. She just knew that this jury was going to take forever and a day. Somehow, she just fucking _knew_ it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He didn't know what it was about the day turning into night-it was like his internal clock was set for the west coast but his body was living on the east.

He had been sitting up, absolutely fine, for the entire ride since they'd left the hotel. They hadn't been talking very much but for once the silence actually felt comfortable and Olivia seemed fine with it…at least he hoped she was. He had a blanket over his shoulders, his rabbit was beside his thigh, and the window pane was cool against his temple when he leaned against it. For the first time in a long time he was actually feeling…_content. _

But then the afternoon had started to fade into evening and his eyelids had started feeling like they had sandbags weighing on them. He didn't get it…he didn't feel the least bit tired at the moment.

When it became necessary for Olivia to turn the headlights on, his blinks were becoming a labor and it made him angry.

Stupid messed-up rest cycle….he _wasn't tired! _Just because it turned dark didn't mean it was time for his body to shut down. Why didn't it know that by now?

_Doesn't matter. _Elliot set his chin stubbornly and purposely widened his eyes as much as he could. _It's not going to work this time. Time to show who's boss around here._

That settled it. He was going to stay awake until they got home. There was no reason why he couldn't. None.

He nodded to himself and decided that, if he had to, he would force his eyelids to stay open until they dried up and shriveled.

Olivia repeatedly glanced over with an amused smile, wondering if he realized how obvious he was making himself. Judging from his determined expression, probably not.

When she glanced over again, almost five minutes later, his face was slumped against the passenger window and he was down for the count. She giggled without being able to help it and shook her head affectionately as she returned her attention back to the road.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By eight pm, the jury appeared still deadlocked. Don couldn't believe it.

He was still sitting with Casey outside of the courtroom doors, in the same spot they had both been for the past three and a half hours. John and Fin had joined him sometime earlier and none of them had budged despite her repeated insistence that it really was okay if they wanted to go.

Fin had attempted small talk for a while, mostly for the attorney's benefit. Even though she was trying hard, it was easy to see that she was on springs. The attempts fell short after a little bit, though, so now silence was the fifth party.

Looking at his watch again, the captain sighed to break it and attract their attention. His detectives turned their heads toward him but Casey just kept her head back against the wall and glanced over with her eyes.

"I need to be going," he said apologetically, looking at the attorney. "I'll have to head back home in the morning."

She just nodded, already knowing it. She'd figured they would all be going home the next day anyway…apparently there was a higher power at play that thought otherwise. First the surprise message from Olivia, telling her they'd left Buffalo earlier than planned, now a waiting game with the jury. Yeah, someone up there wasn't happy with her.

"What about you guys?" She snapped into focus unexpectedly when she heard him addressing the detectives, looking over at them. "When do you plan on heading back?"

Fin and Munch glanced at each other and seemed to hold a silent conversation between them. The black man raised a set of eyebrows at his partner and then looked back at Cragen.

"Well-" he said uneasily, his eyes flitting to hers. "I'd…really like to stay to hear the verdict." He looked at her again. "If you didn't mind."

She shrugged a shoulder instantly. "It's fine with me," she said wearily. "Not sure how long it's going to take, though." Truthfully, she kind of wanted the company.

Cragen and Fin exchanged a look and then the captain regarded his partner. John appeared to have the same expression as Fin.

"I'm assuming by your face," the captain said, "that you're planning the same?"

John nodded. "If that's okay."

She waved her hand again when they looked at her to convey that she didn't mind. The captain shrugged.

"Alright," he said. "Well, I guess that's fine, then…" He shifted a bit uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "But you need to know that I'm going to have to expect you two back to work by Wednesday morning, at the latest."

The detectives regarded each other again quickly, John nodding for them both. "That's fine," he said quickly. "That's no problem."

"Will you call?" Don asked, directing his question at Casey.

She didn't need him to elaborate. "You know I will," she said easily. "As soon as I know, you'll know."

Cragen nodded. "Okay, well-" he said a little uncomfortably. He stood to his feet awkwardly. "I guess…I'll talk to you soon, then."

Casey nodded and then returned back to her position against the wall, closing her eyes. The two men glanced at her before watching the captain walking away.

Fin eyed his partner for a minute and then took up the same position as the attorney. No one seemed in the mood for talking and so they just resumed waiting.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Being in her own bed again felt wonderful after a day of driving, so wonderful that Olivia was deeply and blissfully asleep as soon she tucked in for the night even though it wasn't even midnight yet.

She'd thought a tornado wouldn't have been able to wake her, but unfortunately all it took was a slight _creak_ of movement on her bedroom carpet hours later.

Hearing it had her alert before she even knew it. Her heart thudded frantically as she lay against her pillow trying to conceal that she was awake. Sleep had apparently dulled her senses, making her forget what was going on, and her pulse raced as different defensive strategies flew through her mind. She was used to the stillness and having the only noise come from the streets outside the bedroom window…plus she lived alone and there shouldn't _be_ anyone there to walk across her bedroom carpet.

For about thirty seconds, time seemed to freeze and the only noise she could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears.

_Creak. _

Reflex kicked in like lightening. She sprang upright fast, one hand flicking on the bedside lamp while the other reached immediately for the nightstand drawer where she kept her backup piece-

-and found herself staring across the room at her partner, standing wide-eyed by the foot of her bed.

For a few moments all she could do was gape at him as her heart continued trying to escape from her chest and he gaped back. Shock and horror flooded her face when her brain kicked in and she took her hand away from the drawer as if it had burned her.

"God," she breathed, mortified.

She swallowed and exhaled, closing her eyes for a minute to calm down. When she opened them, he hadn't moved an inch, just continuing to stand stock-still and looking frightened as he stared at her.

Then she realized that his left hand was down his side and his rabbit dangled from it, his fingers curled around the leg as the rest of it hung in a free-fall toward the floor. Taking in his expression, the rabbit, and his pajamas made it horrifyingly obvious what had happened and she felt so guilty that she wanted to puke.

"Elliot," she said, swallowing again and sitting up. Her face set with sympathy and she moved her covers aside quickly. "Honey, what's the matter?"

He was blinking rapidly and she could see his throat contracting as he kept swallowing, his face flushed and scared at the same time. He took a step backwards clumsily and the expression intensified as the rabbit came dangerously close to falling from his grasp.

"Sor-ry," he choked, his voice cracking when he sucked in his breath too fast. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Olivia-" In the moonlight of the window, she could see that his face was wet with tears. "I didn't mean to…I wasn't trying to-"

His words got more and more jumbled and she realized painfully that he was completely undone over the fact that he had woken her. She quickly continued getting upright.

"No," she said tenderly, shaking her head as best she could in hopes to convince him. "No, baby…it's okay. It's okay, you can -" She reached her arm out sympathetically. "Come here to me, Elliot. It's alright…come here."

She watched in startled confusion as he tentatively shuffled around the bed toward her side like he was uncertain that she really meant it. She sat up the rest of the way and moved her legs over the edge as he approached, reaching out for him when he was almost to her. He moved awkwardly to the corner of the mattress.

"What is it, honey?" she asked in concern, drawing her fingers across his shoulder tenderly. She tried to reach out her other arm to encourage him closer but he didn't move. She realized then that he was looking at the floor too and softened her voice cautiously. "Everything alright?"

"Sorry." His voice was soft and broken, his face twisted in agony as he stared fixedly down away from her. She could feel stiffness radiating from him. "I'm sorry I made you wake up-"

The sound shrank until it was too small for her to understand and the flush came back. He mumbled something with his eyes closed tightly and his face angled further away.

"…didn't want…." She strained to hear and only caught a few words. "Scared out there."

He looked so heartbroken that she couldn't bear making him feel worse, so she did her best not to act as confused as she felt and tried to piece together something quickly enough to make sense of it.

"Out…where?" She tried to speak soothingly as she stroked the hair over his ear lovingly with her nails. _Out there? _She made a hesitant attempt. "In the living room?"

His face shuddered with guilt. Okay, so she was on to something… Her brow furrowed in anguish as she tried to think… _"Scared"…?_

"Something scared you… in the living room?" she tried again gently, biting her lip. _Maybe? Possibly…? _

He hung his head and nodded like he had just agreed to his own hanging and it broke her heart to see how obviously ashamed he was. She had to fight the urge to sweep him up into a bear hug, but still couldn't help the sad frown from tugging her features.

"Oh," she said quietly. She bit her lip and squeezed his back softly, while praying she wouldn't make him more upset. "Do you know what it was that scared you?"

He shook his head miserably and then was forced to sniffle as he kept trying to hide the fact that he was crying from her. Olivia kept her arm warmly across his shoulders. It was clear that he felt terrible about admitting what he had.

"Do you want me to go back out there with you, Elliot?" she asked carefully, rubbing his arm gently.

His face crumbled horribly. He didn't and she knew he felt horrible about what it was that he wanted. She knew just what it was and the fact that he was so upset about it made her want to cry.

"You feel better staying in here?" she surmised quietly. She rubbed circles on his back, feeling him shaking under her touch, and tried hard to conceal her sorrow. "Well, that's okay." She swallowed, keeping her voice as light as she could. "You can sleep here in my bed if you want to, honey. I don't mind."

He finally made himself look at her, sniffling again. She nodded with a soft expression, hoping to make him feel better, and began pulling down the comforter from the other side of her pillows. She took one from where she had been laying her head and placed it beside hers.

Elliot closed his eyes and inhaled wetly. "Sorry," he whispered tearfully again.

Shaking her head painfully, Olivia couldn't fight it this time and turned back to pull him into a giant hug.

"It's okay," she repeated. She rubbed his back fervently and nudged his neck with her nose softly. "I promise."

Her lips curved into a small sympathetic smile, she gently took hold of the rabbit between them and held it so that he felt her cradling it affectionately.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He had made sure to leave extra early, just in case of traffic, and so it was barely 11 am when Don pulled back into his driveway at home. He sat still after he turned off the ignition and stretched his cramped back muscles before grabbing his duffle bag from the passenger seat.

As he expected, half of his brood was immediately clambering by his feet as soon as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, meowing insistently and weaving between his legs.

"Hey, Moose," he greeted affectionately, bending down to stroke the back of the spindly grey cat and then moving to the yellow long-haired. "Hey, Champ."

Champ, always with the veracious appetite, let out a demanding yowl and arched his back unhappily at the touch to be sure his master hadn't forgotten his perils. Don rolled his eyes in amusement when the cats quickly zoomed ahead of him toward the kitchen when he moved back upright so fast they almost left a trail of dust.

Mozart and Garfield instantly thumped down the hallway to join them when they heard his footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor and all four of them began flittering around the bottom cabinet where he kept the Whiskas bag. He scoffed at them in protest.

"Oh, come on, you guys!" he said incredulously. He immediately whirled to face the side of the kitchen where Champ and Garfield's food bowls sat on a placemat-one side of each dish was filled with fresh wet food as he'd known they would be, since his neighbor across the street had been taking care of the cats for him-and then to the other side to see the same with Moose and Mozart's bowls. He scowled irritably. "Why do you always do this, huh? You never find anything wrong with the food when _I_ give it to you."

Rolling his eyes again, he opened up the cabinet to retrieve the dry cat food to feed his snobby cats. Every time he needed Mrs. Gordon to come over, they went through this. They'd eat the dry food she gave them every night, would practically inhale it. But they refused to touch the wet cat food if it was set out by anyone other than him.

The dry food clattered into each of the bowls as he poured it and the cats each attacked it with gusto practically before he could get out of their paths. He shook his head, put the bag back under the sink, and then walked over to the counter to check the answering machine.

There were three messages waiting- one from his brother (_damn_, he thought with a grimace when he heard the voice, _I forgot to look into the prices for the driving range he wants me to go to next month with him, shit_), one from the automated recording of his Friendly Neighborhood Civics Committee Leader reminding him of the town hall meeting and encouraging him to join his neighbors in discussing the Very Important Topics concerning the new water treatment petition from the City Council (_delete_, he thought automatically as he hit the appropriate button), and one from Commissioner Geist.

He froze and stiffened reflexively as he listened dutifully to the voice requesting (while subtextually commanding) his presence during the meeting with Detective Olivia Benson the next day to formally discuss the status of her employment.

He grimaced again and quickly picked up the receiver to dial out.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His insides were coiled so tightly that it almost hurt to breathe, but just kept his fists clenched in his lap and his expression tensely controlled.

His partner was beside him, fists also clenched as they hung down between his knees. They weren't sitting _too_ close to one another (personal space was the Man Code, after all), but Fin could still sense John's posture stiffening with anxiety.

The atmosphere was so thick that it seemed stifling. There weren't as many people in the observing rows as there had been during the testimonies, but somehow the smaller group felt more intense and made it feel like the room was teeming with people.

Of course, it could have been due to the unusual demographics of the front. Casey was poised professionally in her chair, but her hard expression and the way the tabletop was completely bare this time made her disposition appear small, almost overwhelmed compared to the defense table. That one was almost uncomfortably crowded, with all seven defendants seated in an odd sort of half-circle accompanying Dwight Haskins.

But despite all the visual stimulation, the only object of most attention was the man taking off his glasses behind the bench. For two detectives and one assistant district attorney, the movement took decades.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" the older man asked solemnly.

The head juror rose from his seat. "We have, your Honor."

Judge Verella turned back to face front and looked down at the defense table. "The defendants will rise," he ordered.

Haskins nodded at the men around him as he stood and the seven all followed suit, rising stiffly. The judge addressed the jury once more and began down the line of defendants.

"In the matter of the State of New York vs. Ethan Jones," he began, "how does the jury find?"

The man spoke clearly. "On the charge of abduction with intent to defile," he said, "we, the jury, find the defendant guilty."

Fin slammed his eyes shut in relief.

"On the charge of sexual abuse in the first degree," the juror went on, "we find the defendant guilty."

"In the matter of the State of New York vs. Jason Evans," the judge continued, "how does the jury find?"

"On the charge of abduction with intent to defile, we find the defendant guilty," the man said. "On the charge of sexual assault in the first degree, we find the defendant guilty."

John felt the tension physically draining from his bones.

"In the matter of the State of New York vs. Travis Sutton, how does the jury find?" Verella asked.

Casey could feel herself becoming lightheaded as she listened to the jury find him guilty on both counts. And the same for the next man. And the next man.

And the next man.

And the next man.

Every one. Every. Single. One.

She unexpectedly wanted to puke. It was a totally unusual reaction, but she didn't think she had ever, in the course of legal practice so far, felt so relieved about winning a case.

The entire defense table was deadly silent, all of them just standing still without emotion.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury." Judge Verella nodded toward the jury box. "You are hereby excused." He then switched his gaze back in front of him before thumbing through his calendar. "A hearing to determine sentencing will take place one week from today, at 9 am. The defendants will surrender custody to the state of New York, where they will be held until that time."

He banged his gavel down and looked around at the crowd. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Court is dismissed."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She heard the _beep _of the Call Waiting, but she didn't dare interrupt to switch over to it. Not this time. Not when she was in the middle of the one and only personal phone call from Police Commissioner Geist that she had ever received in her entire career as a cop.

"…during which time," he was saying, "I would like to discuss with you and your captain what will become of your status as an employee of the Special Victims Unit. Do you have any problem with this?"

Olivia swallowed. "No, Sir," she replied quickly. "Not at all, Sir."

_Fucking fuck fucking __**fuck**__…_her mind was racing meanwhile.

"Will you be able to be in my office tomorrow morning at 10 to address this matter?" the commissioner went on.

_Oh God, oh God, I don't want to do this. Please don't make me do this. _

Her eyes closed. "Yes, Sir," she replied again. "Absolutely."

"Then I will see you tomorrow." The man's tone was clipped and she could tell he wasn't agreeable to staying on the line any longer than absolutely necessary. "Good day, Detective."

"Good…bye," she managed to choke out.

She switched the phone off and swallowed again, feeling nauseous.

For a few moments, Olivia remained turned around, facing the kitchen counter. She finally forced herself to place the phone down and slowly turned to look out into the living room.

Her face was set in panic and she knew it, but she couldn't help herself from staring at her partner sitting on the couch. Nothing had been spoken from him about what had happened that morning, in fact it seemed like he was pretending it hadn't even happened. He was up against the back cushions, watching the television with interest and blissfully oblivious to her attention. His focus was visibly fixed on whatever show he was watching and he looked as relaxed as he possibly could be.

Her heart crumbled into pieces in her chest as she winced at the thought of what they were about to be forced to face.

He suddenly felt her eyes on him after a minute. The look of amusement on his face from the show still glowed as he turned to face her and it made her breath catch painfully.


	65. Chapter 65

"Hello

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**I apologize to everyone who thought this story had died. I took the summer off for an internship and didn't get back to writing until about the middle of July.**

**Please be aware that I have taken specific fictional liberties in this chapter for the purpose of plot and that actual New York regulations are not as they are depicted her. Also, about three-quarters of the way through chapter 36 of this story, there is mention about something concerning Ethan Jones' father. I advise becoming refreshed with that little tidbit so that the end of this chapter makes sense. **

"Hello?"

Hearing the rich, strong sound of his voice suddenly made the murkiness that had been holding her senses captive for the last hour and half become clear. An instant later Melinda was so overwhelmed with emotion that it physically hurt.

But for some reason, she couldn't for the life of her identify what the emotion was.

"_Hello_?"

His voice became slightly aggravated and somewhere in her mind the memory floated past that Mike hated crank calls. She knew that if she didn't say something in the next five seconds he was going to hang up and her brain was chiding her, telling her to speak, but she couldn't concentrate on anything past the realization that his voice was suddenly the most fantastic thing she'd heard in three days.

It was only when she heard the anger scoff that told of his finger about to disconnect that she quickly made her presence known.

"Mike."

She could tell he didn't expect her to just stop after saying his name. After a few seconds of weird silence, he took over, sounding slightly confused.

"Mel?" She recognized slight worry overcome his voice when she remained silent again. "Honey, is everything alright?"

Melinda blinked into the phone, wondering why her arm felt so heavy holding it up to her ear. "The jury came back this morning," she said flatly.

She didn't know why her voice sounded so emotionless and devoid of life. She was feeling so relieved. Her heart was still spinning in circles, an hour after leaving the courtroom. She'd wanted to cry with happiness as she'd listened to the verdicts and it had embarrassed it her so much that she'd tried not to make eye contact with anyone. She _never_ cried.

_Guilty. Guilty guilty guilty guilty. _The word just kept running excited circles around her head, like a hamster on speed. She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, tell everyone she saw, laugh until her sides hurt. _Guilty._

"Oh, no." Mike's soft intake of breath correctly told her that he'd interpreted her tone as bad news. The intense sorrow she heard in his words made her heart ache. "Oh, baby…Melinda, I'm so sorry." He let out a deep puff of air, sounding winded. "Jesus…that's horrible."

The lump swelled in her throat unexpectedly, almost choking her.

"No," she said. She paused. "They were all found guilty." Another pause. "All of them."

On the other end of the line, she could practically see his face stretching in confusion and more worry. When her tears fell and she couldn't hold in the sobs anymore, his voice became positively scared.

"Baby…baby, that's good news…right?" he asked delicately. He was speaking to her like he spoke to their daughter when she had a broken heart, like the time she had tried desperately to prove that her Polly Pockets would swim back up after she flushed them down the toilet. "That's what we want, isn't it?"

Her tears were streaming down her cheeks now, dropping onto the phone and making her face sticky. She sniffled into the receiver.

"Yes," she choked, swallowing. "Mike…it's exactly what we want."

When she started chuckling, the darkness and emotion he heard was frightening.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fin had done most of the driving on the way up, so John offered to return the favor after they had finished checking out of the hotel. Quite honestly, it came as a relief and Fin was more than glad to be his partner's passenger…the idea of curling up and taking a nice 4-hour snooze was one he had no problems with at all.

Not that he was going to let the man catch him doing it, of course. He was sure John would just _love_ the opportunity to bring it up for the rest of their lives.

He subtly reclined the seat a bit as they hit the freeway and began coasting along towards the direction of home and pulled his sunglasses from the glove compartment. He looked toward the window as he slid them on his face in what he hoped was a casual enough manner to keep his partner from noticing, snapping something negative about the music station that John currently had them listening to as he did so to save face even as he began slowly sliding down into a comfortable position. It would be easy to sleep with his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses…John wouldn't be able to say anything about it, because he could deny it and there would be no proof.

With his eyes closed and sleep already tugging at him enticingly, he wasn't able to see the man beside him digging into his pocket with an evil grin on his face.

For once, John found himself thanking Olivia for pressuring him into getting a cell phone with a camera like all of the rest of the squad.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She had taken her laptop computer and sat next to him on the couch, deciding she might as well go ahead and get some of the month's bills on track while she had the free time. He had offered to turn the television off but she would have none of it, waving her hand and telling him not to be silly. He'd shrugged and then turned back to the episode of _The Price is Right_ that he had been watching.

Once, when Olivia had to shift position when she began feeling needles of numbness in her legs, she'd accidentally kicked over his rabbit. He had it propped up in the middle cushion next to him and facing the television too, as if watching with him.

Checking on the status of her checking account and combing through her various magazine subscription statuses didn't take very long, but trying to balance the money she had for that month's bills took more concentration than she liked.

She had been sitting there, mentally tallying things in her head, for about two minutes the first time she saw the movement from the corner of her eye. She glanced at him, but Elliot was watching the TV again.

The fourth time she noticed, she turned her head fast in time to catch him. He was craning his neck to see out the window past her. When he realized she was watching, he quickly turned away and reached for the glass of water sitting in front of him, trying to play off the movement as simply wanting a drink.

"Okay?" she asked casually, glancing at him.

He nodded quickly to be convincing and looked quickly to the television as he drank. She eyed him for a minute, but nevertheless returned her attention back to the computer.

Elliot swallowed the water, his eyes flickering beside him nervously and then back toward the window.

"Hey…Liv?"

She wasn't expecting to hear his voice and it startled her a bit, her head immediately turning. Seeing his hesitant expression, she raised her eyebrows tenderly and smiled.

"Hmm?"

He swallowed again. His heart was hammering but he tried to force the words up before he could lose the nerve.

"Could we….d-do you think maybe it would be okay if…if we maybe went outside?" he finally managed to say.

She couldn't hide the surprise from her expression fast enough for him not to notice and immediately felt guilty for letting it show. That explained the constant window-looking.

"Uh-sure," she said, unconsciously twisting around to glance out of the curtain beside her. It wasn't that the idea bothered her, it was just that…it really wasn't very _nice_ out. It certainly wasn't sunny. "Sure, if you want."

She put a smile on her face and nodded, wishing she could see him smile back even though she knew he wouldn't.

He glanced away awkwardly and then at her before looking away again, looking flustered. She realized suddenly that he was waiting for her to stand, so that he could have a cue when to do the same, and she felt the sharp twinge in her heart before she shoved it fiercely away. It wasn't his fault that his instincts were still telling him to hesitate, to seek permission for his every movement.

It was just what he had become trained to do. What _they_ had trained him to do.

She savagely forced down the feelings of dark despair she could feel rising and kept the smile on her face as she stood to her feet.

"Are you done?" she asked, gesturing to his water cup as he stood up too, more slowly than she had.

He looked down at the glass as if startled and then nodded quickly, handing it to her. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said, looking at his feet.

His voice was still too quiet. Too nervous. Too-

_Expectant_, her brain taunted cruelly. Her heart contracted again. _Like a dog that's used to being hit with a newspaper after his master makes him "speak"._

The surge of emotion was fast and out of her control as it flooded her senses.

_Please, Elliot. Do something. Look me in the eye. Demand that I stop screwing around with this water business and go get you a fucking beer. Tell me to blow it out my ass next time I ask if you're ready to drink another Ensure. Please, just do something to show me you're still __**in there**__, please. Please give me my best friend back. _

She swallowed a lump in her throat uncomfortably and breathed through her nose.

"Okay," she said, nodding at the head still bowed down toward his shoes. "I'll go get our coats."

He wouldn't move until she had turned around and she knew this. Olivia made sure to move first, purposely focusing all of her attention on her present tasks of putting his glass in the sink and going to the closet for their coats.

The toilet flushed and sink water ran as she reached up to the top shelf to gather their scarves, gloves, and hats to add to the coats she had draped over her arm. She slid her feet into her shoes while she was standing there, since she always kicked them off next to the closet door anyway.

The sound of heavy footsteps clomping down the hall met her ears, followed by jingling and light cursing. Olivia grinned fondly at the familiar sound of her neighbor as he attempted to juggle his mail and keys while opening his apartment door.

But then her smile vanished when she stepped into the living room and saw Elliot outside the bathroom door. He was standing frozen, like a frightened rabbit, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the front door to the apartment. 

Her own eyes widened in dread and horror. She could practically _see_ the pulse throbbing painfully in his veins in time to his racing heart. Swallowing, she made sure to step lightly and slowly toward him. She wasn't sure where he was at that moment, but she knew that it definitely wasn't her apartment.

"Elliot," she said gently, her steps even. "Elliot…hey." No movement from him. "It's me, honey. It's Olivia. Elliot, look at me."

His head turned slowly in her direction and she almost shivered at the vacancy in his eyes.

"It's okay. Everything's okay. It's just the man next door, sometimes he comes home early." Still nothing, just that stare. _Can he hear me?_ "We're safe, Elliot," she continued soothing calmly, even though her heart was jumping. "I promise."

The deafening sound of silence met her ears when she stopped speaking. He stared at her (_through her_, her brain spat out) and back at the door. After a minute, his eyes slowly appeared to focus again and he exhaled a long, shaking breath.

She bit her lip and stepped closer, wondering what to do. He looked like a thousand springs were attached to his body, just waiting for the slightest touch to snap them uncoiled and into a million different directions.

"Hey," she said softly.

Very lightly, she laid her hand on his elbow and was relieved when he looked at her immediately. Elliot blinked at her and then down at her fingers resting on his arm.

He seemed to almost stumble back away from her, making her fingers drop. "I-I, um-" His voice was choked but he still was trying to act like nothing was wrong. "Actually, I don't-"

His eyes darted to the side, not looking at her, and he spoke quickly, almost jumbling his words. "I'm not feeling very well, I think…I think I'm going to go lie down for a little while. Maybe-maybe we can go out later."

Before she could even open her mouth, he was walking back down the hall fast. She heard his footsteps retreat into her bedroom and closed her eyes.

The flush on his face had looked familiar.

She knew, without even guessing, that it was the same one that he'd had that morning when he was standing at the foot of her bed, so frightened and ashamed to admit it. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was dusk when she arrived back at her apartment and Casey was starving, but she didn't even want to sum up the energy to think about what to eat. She was sick of fast food after having so much of it over the past few days and she didn't want to cook.

She was grouchy and miserable and it didn't make sense. She should have been happy. She _had _been happy. Yesterday after finally escaping that courtroom, she'd been so happy that she had gone straight to the hotel bar, ordered a line of tequila shots, and then slammed down four of them without a pause.

She hadn't done that since…hell, her pre-law days almost. She'd felt an exhilaration that she'd thought she couldn't. She'd felt like she could do anything.

She had won the case. She had _won_ _the case_. Eight years out of law school and taking on her hardest battle yet and she had _won_.

She'd started crying on the fifth shot. By the time she finished her sixth, the bartender had cut in and gently but forcefully suggested that maybe she'd had enough. She hadn't even been able to answer him. Then she was somehow back in her room and under the covers of the bed, fully clothed, and not able to remember coming in.

Don Cragen had called later that night. She hadn't moved, hadn't even looked at her phone. She saw his number on the display when she checked it in the morning but there was no message

Now she was home and, if the message on her answering machine was to be believed, wanted in the office in the morning.

She played the message again without thinking, just hitting the button like a reflex, and as the voice of Arthur Branch's secretary filled the bedroom again she realized she was staring at the wall so hard that it was making her eyes hurt. She pressed delete and her hand dropped onto the bedside table.

Her boss would congratulate her. He'd come to her office and tell her that she'd done good work, that she should be proud. Then he'd drop a new case on her desk and ask for preliminary notes by the end of the day and would leave her to her own devices again.

In a week, docket number 10-2343, State of New York vs. Ethan Jones, Jason Evans, James Bowman, Travis Sutton, John Hughes, Matt Lucas and Jeffrey Pendleton would be filed away with all of the other previous successful cases in the District Attorney's office and forgotten. In a month, the names of those involved on both sides would slip the minds of someone if the case happened to be brought up in conversation somewhere.

Life would go on. By spring, there would be dozens of new cases and victims in between and she would finish an entire week without even remembering having to stand up in front of a jury in Buffalo, New York.

Could she go back to work? Could she let this case fade away?

She inhaled and kept staring at the wall.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The morning sunshine streamed right into her eyes when Olivia bent down beside the couch and laid her hand on his blanket-covered shoulder. Blinking uncomfortably, she tried to shift out of the beam but it was shining right through the window by the couch and there was nothing she could do about it. She tried to ignore it while she shook him gently and whispered his name to wake him.

When she got no response, she sucked on her lip and lifted her hand for a minute.

"Elliot," she said again, a bit louder. She shook his shoulder again. "Hey… I need you to wake up, honey." A strangled sort of animal noise floated out from the blanketed lump in front of her and she tried to hold back her grin when she saw the scowl come over his face to give him away. "Come on."

Elliot reluctantly pried open his eyes and looked blearily over at her, his displeasure at being awake clear. She wasn't able to keep in her amusement anymore and chuckled lightly as she stroked his hair.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said sincerely. "I know it's early." It was just past seven. "I need to talk to you, though." She inhaled softly and threaded her fingers through his soft strands. "We have to do things a little different this morning."

She knew that would wake him. "Different" was a word that made him uncomfortable now.

He blinked sleepily again but was pushing himself up in almost a second. She saw the nervous tension begin in his limbs and recognized the dread as it came on his face.

"What things?" he asked softly, hesitantly.

She swallowed nervously and worried her lip between her teeth. "Are you thirsty?" she asked, changing the subject without being able to help it. "Need me to get you some water?"

Her heart sank a bit when he shook his head with hardly a blink, continuing to stare at her intently. She wasn't intentionally trying to stall but she still wished it worked.

"No," he said firmly. "No water...you're just stalling."

A thrill shot through her unexpectedly like an electrical spark. _Good God…that was __**Elliot**__ right there…reading my mind like he always could!_

"What things, Liv?" His voice had quieted, and her excitement was gone in a flash. "What are you talking about?"

Olivia inhaled through her nose regretfully and ran her hand down his cheek. "I can't go with you to your doctor's appointments today," she said heavily. His face immediately became perplexed and she had to swallow. "I got a call yesterday from Commissioner Geist, Elliot, and I have to go to the precinct to meet with him this morning."

He was just staring at her now, without saying anything, but she could see the panic that was trying to break free in his eyes.

"Sweetheart….everything will be fine," she went on, aware of the desperate tinge in her own voice. She reached over and took his hand almost crushingly in her longing to reassure him. "Kathy is coming, she's not going to work today…she'll be with you the whole time, just like we always do. She's going to be with you the entire time and I'll be right here when you get back…probably even before you get back."

He said nothing when she finished speaking. His eyes scanned over hers several times, but she was ashamed to admit feeling surprised by his stoic expression. Not that she _wanted_ him to be upset….it just felt weird somehow and just thinking that made her feel horrible.

"Elliot, do you understand what I'm saying?" She kept her voice soft but after a minute of him not responding to what she'd said, she wanted to be sure he was alright. "Kathy is going to come with you, and she isn't going to leave for one whole minute while you're with the doctor. As soon as I'm done, I'm going to be right back here with you."

Still nothing but staring. She bit her lip. "Okay?"

His brow furrowed ever-so-slightly and he asked, "Why do you have to meet with him?"

It caught her off-guard, and even more so when she realized with a start that…she really didn't know. She didn't know what to expect from this meeting at all.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Cragen glanced at the clock again and back down to the paperwork he had been pretending to be doing since he came in that morning. It was twenty after nine. He expected to see Chief Stoneman soon, as to that man "punctual" meant ten to fifteen minutes early.

It had unsettled him a bit to learn that the chief would also be attending their meeting, because the commissioner had said nothing of the sort in the phone message. He was almost certain that Olivia wouldn't be expecting him either.

It still felt…surreal, sort of, this whole thing. He had been so consumed the past few weeks with _emotions_- agony over what Elliot was going through, worry about how the rest of them were coping, anger and rage at the situation, hatred at the whole damn system for making the whole court process necessary- and it had been his defense mechanism to push aside thinking about actually taking any kind of _action_.

The past days, weeks, months…they had _all_ been made victims, even those who didn't personally know Elliot, from the very day that a group of thugs had taken it upon themselves to abduct one of their brothers, and even though it was hard to stomach if Don were honest with himself he would have to admit that in a way, the role had been easy to get used to. After they had found him, the only thing important in Cragen's mind had been making sure Elliot was alright.

Of course he was angry at the bastards responsible, _Christ_ he was angry, but when given the choice he hadn't hesitated to focus his attention solely on the detective they'd all been missing for so long. He was the captain and this was not just any man, this was one of _his_ men. He held the revenge in his heart but would have sooner lost a limb than let his feelings get in the way of Elliot's recovery.

It hadn't been intentional, of course….he'd had no idea he was even doing it, but after working under that mindset for a while it had become surprisingly easy to let others deal with the areas he normally would have had full participation in. Relying on Casey and the DA and everyone else to clean up the scum became natural and even preferred in almost no time. His detective was a victim and so that made _him_ a victim because he felt every bit of the pain and hardship being faced by his squad.

Being a victim meant not having to acknowledge the other aspects of the situation, like being reminded that the world hadn't been able to come to a halt while their squad was struggling to get through. Being a victim meant not having to make the core decisions needed for the squad to find its feet again.

Now he was finding out the hard way that having to step out of the role wasn't quite as agreeable.

Figuring out what direction to take the Special Victims Unit was his responsibility, and so he was being forced to start focusing on the facts instead of the feelings. The _facts_ were that he couldn't keep a squad going without a full employee team and had been without one for almost three months. As the captain, he was expected to fix it and _was_ being expected to fix it.

In about thirty-eight minutes.

Don blew out a breath and continued surreptitiously watching the doors as he fussed about the paperwork, nodding to detectives when they acknowledged him through the open office doorway but not really even seeing them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The inside of the car was so quiet that she almost thought that she had her son beside her instead of the man she married. It sounded so much like the way it did when Dickie was in one of his sullen "I hate-the-world-and-why-can't-you-just-let-me-watch-the-R-rated-movie-like-everyone-else-Mom-_God!_" moods. It made her want to smile.

Except that it wasn't Dickie, it was Elliot, and she knew why he was quiet, and nothing about this was funny.

She had attempted small conversation once they had set out toward Doctor Olivet's office, but things had still felt slightly rushed and awkward so she hadn't persisted when he didn't initiate further talking. She had been running late thanks to a surprise phone call from one of the ladies at the church that was known for her long-winded "chats" when she called to ask for assistance in some matter or other. By the time she'd managed to get the woman off of the phone (which was an act of God and only happened after she had somehow gotten herself volunteered to bake some kind of cake for some visit to somebody's sick uncle before she even realized it), it had been twenty-five after nine and Olivia had asked if she could be at her apartment by nine-thirty so she would get to the precinct on time for her meeting.

Kathy cleared her throat softly, unable to take it anymore.

"So…" she began quietly, glancing hesitantly beside her for a minute to see where his attention was. It appeared to be with the passing streets, but she went ahead anyway. "Um…did-did Maureen tell you that she passed all of her midterms?"

His head turned slowly to look at her and she saw a slightly bewildered expression on his face, as if he was surprised she was talking to him. Unsure of how to react, she just stared back at him and the silence quickly turned awkward.

"Oh…no," he replied. More silence. "She hasn't mentioned it."

He kept staring at her after he spoke, but his eyes, normally the most intense and expressive part of his face, were zoned on hers, not really focused. It was like speaking was an unconscious action separate from his awareness. It was startling, and she found herself faltering over what to possibly say next.

Before she could come up with anything, he was turned back and looking out the window again. She swallowed and looked back at the road, trying not to acknowledge the lump building in her throat.

She wasn't used to this and she didn't like it, not at all. She knew this man's temperaments inside and out, knew every one of his moods and nuances better than even her children's. Even if he didn't say one _word_ she could still correctly identify what he was feeling just by a look in his eyes, or tightness of his jaw, or clenching of his cheekbone.

She had never, ever seen him….vacant like this. Just the word twisted her the wrong way but she couldn't think of something more accurate to describe the vibe he was giving off, the one that was effectively making her feel more uneasy with each passing minute. It felt like sharing room with an empty shell.

She wondered briefly if Doctor Olivet ever mentioned it during their talks. She wondered what it felt like to him, what he was seeing and hearing when he took on an expression like the one he had talking to her.

But most of all, she wondered what it was about that stuffed rabbit that made him insist on it being with him everywhere, like a second skin.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia had used the twenty minutes that it took to get to the 16th precinct to lecture herself sternly about keeping her temper under control during this meeting. She didn't like having to be there, but she had reasoned that it wouldn't do her any good to get on the bad side of the people who literally held her paychecks in their hands.

_They're reasonable men_, she'd kept telling herself. _And they're human…the whole thing was as hard on them as it was on us. They won't expect "standard procedures" because it can't be applied here. Hopefully, with all of our input, we can figure out what to do in the meantime.___

She had faith in the high-ups of the SVU. They were all good, honorable men who she had always known to keep the best interests at heart of those who worked for them. Everything would work out alright. She was sure of it. It had to.

Except that the longer she listened to Commissioner Geist, the more her confidence began to fade.

"…which means that the days you have accumulated will expire this Monday," he went on. "Four days from today." She quickly got herself focused again, nodding from her seat across from Cragen's desk. "After that the department will no longer be able to grant you any further leave of absence."

Olivia nodded again and felt foolish, like a puppet repeating the gesture automatically. Next to her, Captain Cragen shifted slightly in his chair. His decision to move from behind his desk and sit in the seat set out beside hers at the start of the meeting had been unexpected. She wondered if it had been done out of respect for her, maybe his way of making sure she wouldn't feel ganged up on by three superiors….or if he had done it out of fear for his own skin, making sure that the man in control of _his_ position wouldn't have a reason to think he was being rude or condescending by staying seated at his desk and making him assume a position of standing down.

"As of right now-" Chief Stoneman picked up the talking after a minute after a glance from the commissioner. "You are still technically still considered active duty in the employee database and declared to have been spending the last estimated eight or so weeks on personal leave. On Monday, however, your status will be switched to inactive and your position considered void and in need of refilling."

Though his words were detached and professional in tone, the middle-aged man was making it obvious through his demeanor that he was trying to be as gentle as possible. "Which is why, Detective Benson, we've had to call you here today…we need to make some kind of decision as to what to do about keeping you active."

Olivia couldn't deny the feeling of relief that seeped through her bones at his words- as irrational as it sounded in her own mind, her doubtful heart had started trying to convince her that they had really called this meeting to tell her that she was being fired.

She didn't know what she would have done then. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, that was certain…but she still liked the idea of having a _job_, damn it.

The chief's eyes went over to Cragen. "Now, Captain Cragen and I have been discussing some possible situations which I will happy to present to you," he went on, "but if you believe there may be a better solution please feel free to-"

He stopped when he saw her mouth open hesitantly and then close fast, obviously wanting to say something but not wanting to seem rude. He gestured to her quickly to ensure she knew he didn't mind.

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Olivia said. "I don't mean to interrupt…" She glanced toward Cragen for a moment but the chief just waved his hand insistently for her to continue. "But I was just, um, wondering about my partner…" She glanced between the chief and the commissioner a bit nervously, swallowing. "May I assume that he is going to be offered the same?"

She watched the two men in front of her look at each other and then Chief Stoneman looked over at Cragen. His expressing was slightly guarded, a sort of _who's going to tell her?_ look of hesitance. She followed his gaze to her captain, seeing him biting his lip and looking at the ground, and then back nervously.

_Oh…boy. _

It was Cragen who decided to speak.

"Actually, Olivia-" He suddenly faltered and glanced at the commissioner before amending, "_Detective_…um, well as you know…I-um, I mean as I _told_ you-"

It was unsettling to hear him fumbling with his words like that…he hardly ever did. It could have had a million different implications and she didn't like a single one.

"Chief Stoneman and I," Don went on, looking at the chief for a minute, "agreed to put Detective Stabler on traumatic time once he ran out of sick days and vacation time, which turned out to be about a week and a half ago." He was looking at her cautiously, as if bracing himself for a reaction to his next words. "Normally, any time an officer requires traumatic time, it is considered by the department as a legitimate paid leave. His position becomes temporarily reassigned but is still considered active and is resumed once he is back to work."

He paused and the look in his eyes could only be described as resigned. "Standard regulations require any officer given traumatic time leave to attend at least three sessions with a psychological counselor and a passing evaluation from psychological services before he can return to duty."

His voice seemed odd suddenly and she couldn't place why.

"However, given the-the circumstances," he went on, "the stake of Detective Stabler's best interest has compelled us to make the decision to replace his spot. The department has taken him off of payroll and his last paycheck will go through by the end of next week. We will be keeping all of his information current and up-to-date in preparation for if he chooses to return to duty in the future."

He saw the explosion when it lit up her eyes. Before he could speak again, she was leaned forward agitatedly and clenching her fists in her lap.

"Well…that's certainly good news."

The caustic words were rough and cold and though in hindsight he realized it shouldn't have, it caught Cragen by surprise. As much as she wanted to, she didn't have the guts to glare at her superiors across from her, but her face was so hard that it looked to be etched in stone.

"You're just going to take his job?" she spat out incredulously. Rage was bubbled up in her chest, making it hurt to breathe, and she had to stop herself from leaping up out of the chair towards the desk. "He gets kidnapped and has practically a month of his life taken away and now it's just-"

Her hand flew up to wave at her side, mimicking mockingly, "'Oh well, sorry about your luck but there's no room here for you anymore'" She was almost snarling now without realizing it. "What a great welcome-home present. I'm sure he'll be delighted."

"Detective Benson."

The commissioner cut her off almost sharply, prompting her to bite her lip. Her cheeks were flushed. She glanced over toward Cragen but didn't raise her eyes to his, instead suddenly finding the cherry oak of his desk in front of her fascinating.

Geist inhaled through his nose softly, but when he spoke his voice had none of the rebuke she was bracing herself to hear.

"It is not anyone's intention in this office to do anything to negatively affect Detective Stabler," he said. "No one is placing any kind of blame on him for what happened." His eyes softened and he pursed his lips gently. "Your partner is not being fired, Detective… we'll be here as soon as he wants to talk about coming back. When and if he does, I assure you that we will do everything in our power to work him back in somehow."

Olivia had to swallow.

_When and if he does._

"It's obvious that you're very loyal to him," Geist went on, his voice gentle and almost kind. "But we're meeting today so that we can talk about _your_ job. You need to be aware that your current situation does…create some problems at the moment that need to be discussed in order to figure out your next moves."

She clenched her teeth in frustration but stopped herself from doing the same with her fists, concentrating on keeping them passively in her lap.

"You're talking about how he's been staying with me," she said in matter-of-fact quiet, not even bothering to form it into a question. She kept her eyes on the desk, not wanting to look at any of their faces for confirmation even though she already knew.

"Well…yes."

The commissioner's voice became considerably quieter, but did nothing to reassure her. Neither did the lengthy pause that followed.

"I had assumed with your strong work history with this unit that you were familiar with departmental regulations prohibiting fraternization among employees," he continued slowly. His words were delicate, as if dreading a time bomb. "I understand that this is an uncomfortable situation and I sympathize."

His expression became stern and it was reflected in his voice as he changed tone. "But I also have to uphold my responsibilities as an administrative official," he said firmly. "Two detectives from the same squad can not occupy a private residence together on off-duty time, let alone two partners. It not only shows inappropriate conduct, it also runs a high risk of recklessness that the department simply cannot and will not tolerate to its standards."

Cragen was making sure to keep his eyes forward obediently, trying not to focus on his superior while he spoke. It was awkward enough as it was and he continually had to struggle not to wince. It wouldn't do him any good to have the commissioner look to him for a backup comment when he wasn't sure what he even felt about the situation at hand. It just…hurt.

Commissioner Geist fell silent after a moment to give the detective a moment to breathe. She had sat stoically through his entire run with the same poise she had adapted since coming in and hadn't met his eyes one time as he had been speaking to her.

The room quickly went from quiet to stifling. Olivia continued to look carefully at the desk plate right in front of her with almost obedient intensity and remained silent.

It happened so quickly that it appeared to be almost a trick of the light, but just as the commissioner was about to look to the other two men for assistance he saw a muscle twitch directly above the detective's jaw line.

"Inappropriate?"

Though directed as a question, the smoldering intensity of the gaze she slowly met with commissioner's made it clear that she had absolutely no intention of giving them the chance to consider her motives as such.

Chief Stoneman's face began to crinkle slightly from his standing position to the left of where Commissioner Geist was seated as he stared at her uncertainly, not sure where she might go.

The commissioner was locked directly on her face without wavering, waiting while still managing to remind her just with his posture that although the situation was not entirely formal, she still would be wise to consider carefully her words before addressing the man who held the entire precinct in the palm of his calloused hand.

Cragen looked over at her hesitantly. Her eyes were positively flashing, making them appear almost black. Her teeth were clenched but she was trying desperately to hold onto her control.

"Inappropriate," she repeated tensely.

She swallowed and had to consciously tell herself to breathe calmly. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and tried again.

"Sir," she began quietly, willing her eyes to remain firmly in place with his, "do you know how long Detective Stabler and I have been partners in this unit?"

The man's eyes narrowed a fraction across from her, but he nevertheless glanced down at the files in front of him that she hadn't noticed until that moment.

"It says here…" He squinted a moment at one of them. "You were assigned to the unit in…early 1999…" His eyes scanned the page, reading. "Partnered with Stabler September of that same year and, aside from a few temporary relocations assisting different boroughs, were never switched." He looked back at her. "So that would make it roughly 8 years, then?"

She nodded.

Her expression made him assume that she was about to use the argument about their solid reputation as a team to excuse their current situation and the commissioner knew that he was going to have to be more direct with her. He didn't want to come across as harsh, but it was imperative that the detective understood the scale of this from his standpoint as head of the department.

"It's no doubt an uncommon feat in this unit," he said, trying to be gentle. "Not many detectives have been fortunate enough to find someone they can work so well with." His mouth tightened a little, a sort of pity smile attempt. "I understand the bond that partners share, Detective Benson…believe it or not, I worked a beat back in the day myself."

He wanted to lighten the mood, but she didn't even blink at his attempt. She sat quiet a moment before speaking once more.

"Commissioner, with all due respect-" Her voice was almost a murmur. "Whatever partnership you may have had…that _anyone _may have…"

Her eyes floated down to concentrate on Captain Cragen's brass name plate in front of her.

"No one else has had the opportunity to know Detective Stabler the way I've had." Her breath caught involuntarily, making her rush to push down emotion. "Assuming so would imply that you consider him expendable and he doesn't deserve that."

Commissioner Geist nodded warmly, immediately. "You're right," he agreed contritely. "And I apologize for the thoughtless remark. I never intended to give the impression that I think less of your partnership and I am sorry you had to think so."

For a long moment, a stale silence choked all four occupants of the small office. Olivia could feel her throat choking and was angry at herself. This wasn't going the way she had imagined it would.

"Detective Benson…" The commissioner once again broke the silence finally in a soft tone. "I know this situation has been difficult for you. I know that." The man's light brown eyes were imploring and delicate. "I know how close this unit is and I can't even begin to imagine how you must felt while your partner was missing."

His inhale seemed resigned. "I can understand why you thought taking him back to your home was the best choice at the time," he went on. "And if I may say so, it very well may havebeen- I wasn't there, I don't know the circumstances. I can condone a few days…I could condone _several_ days when a person is as obviously in need of care as Detective Stabler was upon release from the hospital-"

He shook his head helplessly. "But it's been almost eight weeks, Detective," he said. "And as far as it has looked, you haven't even considered any other alternative option for his care. Even his own family, as I believe you had said during the recent criminal trials…you spoke as though they were visitors, not really a part."

His voice was still gentle. "Captain Cragen has said that at first you didn't even want to consider giving him the chance to see a therapist…it seems as if you've single-handedly decided to become Elliot Stabler's caretaker and guardian."

He gave another thin-lipped motion, appearing almost resigned, and addressed her by her first name for the first time. "Olivia, that mindset can't be incorporated into a working partnership. It just _can't_. Once that happens…it puts both of you in jeopardy." He sucked in his lip and looked at her with sympathetic eyes, his voice softening. "Can you honestly tell me that you could put those feelings aside when you're with him on the streets, expected to protect the public?"

Her heart felt like it was being grinded between two pieces of solid steel. She could literally feel every single convulsion as it quivered between her ribcage and sustained each breath of air, beat by painful beat.

"C-Commissioner-," she choked, drawing breath forcefully. She stopped, took another breath. "Sir…you're right." The emotion fought with her need to sustain oxygen and she prayed that she wouldn't tear up. "You don't know the circumstances, sir."

Cragen's eyebrows knit in concern as he glanced at her again. She obviously wasn't angry, but he knew all too well how powerful the force of emotion could be. He hoped that she wouldn't lose her composure now.

"What we have together _is _unlike any other partnership I've ever had, sir," she went on quietly. "I'm not even really sure if 'partnership' is the right word. I've become closer to Elliot Stabler in the eight years I have known him than I have to anyone else in my life before. I can't remember even really considering him a 'friend'…he's just always been my brother, my family." She swallowed waveringly. "My blood."

The two men across from her were looking at her with expressions that she couldn't read.

"When he was taken, it felt like half of my heart was gone." It suddenly felt like she was the only person in the room…that she was admitting to herself aloud things she hadn't dared think about before. "Having him just….taken like that…I couldn't just-_not _be affected. There's just no way. Not being able to know where he was, if he was safe…sir, it scared me more than any weapon I've ever encountered."

Her voice became tight and strained. "I was so sure-" She swallowed quickly, trying to control it. "So sure that I was never going to see him again, and then-" Shaking her head, Olivia focused her eyes on the desk, sounding slightly dazed. "Suddenly…there he is, and he's terrified and begging me not to leave him..._him._"

Her harsh laugh reflected shock and amazement at the irony. Cragen could see the tears shining in her eyes through his sideways furtive glances. He felt like he is in a sarcophagus, it was so deadly quiet when she stopped, and then a minute of stillness encases the room.

She raised her head to look into Commissioner Geist's face and swallowed heavily.

"What should I have done, sir?" Though her voice was soft, her tone was not belligerent. She appeared to be genuinely asking. "In the hospital, when he was scared to death and convinced that at any moment, one of those men was coming to hurt him again...when his wife and I both sat with him after he had surgery to repair the damage that had been done to him and listened to him crying because of how much pain he was in?"

Her bottom lip quivered ever-so-slightly even though she fought to keep it still. "He's out of his mind with fear and the only thing he knows is unspeakable abuse…yet somehow he's still able to piece together that partner's watch each other's backs…keep each other safe. His world had become nothing but struggling to just _survive_ but he could still understand what I did, what I was."

She had to swallow again. "And-he trusted me. Despite his every instinct telling him not to trust _anyone_…he let himself trust me not to hurt him." Letting out a shaky breath, Olivia shook her head again and looked back up when she realized her gaze had fallen again.

"What should I have done?" she repeated quietly, sounding torn. "Was it wrong of me to become so close to him?" She sounded devastated, as if just realizing this. "Am I making it harder to heal by making him depend on me?"

Commissioner Geist looked at her with gentle eyes and a firm mouth.

"Harder for _who_ to heal, Olivia?" he asked quietly. His tone was soft and he let a long moment pass, trying to hit home to her. "Your partner…or you?" Her face visibly blanched and he held his gaze steadfast while giving her a minute to let that process before continuing gently. "Are you keeping him close because you think he'll benefit from it or because you're afraid of what might happen if you let him go?"

Cragen found himself almost dropping his mouth open. He composed himself expertly so that his face remained stoic, but inside his mind was whirling. He had honestly never let himself give the commissioner credit before, always instinctively wanting to think of the man as an enemy because of what he had insisted they take care of during all of this….maybe he was more insightful than they'd been willing to see.

"Your feelings are a part of your job," he went on to her calmly. "You wouldn't be as successful as you have been without them."

A sudden, strong shock of _déjà vu _almost jolted the captain right out of his chair as he remembered a similar conversation he'd had with Elliot almost seven years ago…he'd said almost these exact same words to the detective then.

"This isn't about your feelings being inappropriate," Geist continued. "They don't say 'partners are like blood' without a reason…and I know how it feels to have a friend so close that they feel like kin. The reason we're here is because I'm worried that what you may _do _with your feelings may hinder both you and your partner's potential for the future."

He looked at her tenderly. "I'm not asking you to give up on your partner, Olivia. I'm asking that you think about how you've been helping him cope with these last months and what you expect to happen from the next ones." His mouth quirked slightly. "If your entire focus is on darkness, how will you know when to encourage light?"

Olivia swallowed and took a breath through her nose when he stopped talking. He was looking at her as if expecting a response and she was scared of what may come from her mouth.

Because deep down, she knew he was right. And it scared her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sun that had been peeking out enough to cast cheery brightness into the office during his time with Doctor Olivet had been rudely overthrown by the cloud gods when it came time to drive across town for his next appointment immediately afterward. Threatening clouds loomed before them for the entire ride until just as they pulled into the parking lot of the building, when droplets of rain began to pelt the windows.

"Ugh," Kathy groaned, turning off the ignition.

She sat back in dismay and glared out the windshield at the increasingly harder battering of raindrops. She turned her head without raising it up off of the headrest to look over at Elliot and suddenly was bombarded with nostalgic memories.

She remembered back to days of decades past when they were still kids and their lust for each other was the only thing that mattered in their selfish existence. Sometimes the two of them would drive aimlessly around town in his truck for hours after a date, just to draw out more time together, because waiting until the next day to see each other was torture. Often times they ended up at the sailing school in Port Washington, one of his most favorite places to go other than her house, and would sit with the windows open gazing out boats floating lazily in the moonlit water.

Sitting nestled against his side with a warm quiet over them made her feel completely happy with the entire world. It was when that feeling washed over her that she would turn her head against his shoulder and just gaze at him, eyes sleepy-relaxed and heart bursting with how much she adored him.

The memory flooded over her as he turned his head to look back at her. For a moment, she just stared with a wistful tug of her lips, tracing over features that made up the perfect face of Elliot Stabler. Her love. Her everything.

Then the sound of the raindrops returned back into her consciousness, making her blink rapidly to orient herself. Her heart twisted like a jackknife as her focus shifted to reveal the bruises along his jaw, cheekbones and hairline that had tinged to purple yellow, the painful puffed state of his nose, and the blackened eye sockets screaming evidence of abuse.

Kathy forced a pained smile and fake brightness around the lump in her throat. "Ready to make a break for it?" she asked.

Instantly remembering what had happened the last time in weather like this, Elliot made sure to keep his rabbit firmly gripped inside his coat so there would be no risk of losing it as they went toward the entrance.

The waiting area wasn't crowded that day, in fact it was nearly empty aside from the two of them when they stepped inside, but when Kathy went up to the reception desk to sign them in he hovered right at her side. He didn't move until she was finished and physically turning toward the direction of the chairs.

Fifteen minutes later, a nurse who looked about as young as their oldest daughter called them back toward the exam rooms. The petite brunette wore a brightly-patterned scrub top and the overly eager smile of someone not yet robbed of youthful naivety by the medical profession.

Kathy's sharp eyes immediately picked up the sympathetic glimmer that crossed the girl's face when she stepped aside to let them pass and felt her defenses rise instantly, preparing for when the comment was made. It was still painfully obvious how skittish he was around people anyway, but words of pity from strangers seemed to be the worst. The expression of misery that he made every time it happened made her want to kill.

Fortunately the nurse turned out to act more mature than her appearance suggested. The look on her face disappeared almost as soon as it had come about and she nodded at Kathy cordially before turning her attention to Elliot.

"Mr. Stabler," she said, checking the name quickly again with a flick of her eyes. She guided them toward the scale with the same smile. "If you could take your shoes off, please, I'll need to take your weight."

"Oh-um…"

He tensed immediately, his face flushing as his eyes swept over his immobilized right arm and then up to his wife pleadingly. Kathy inwardly cringed with anger at the nurse, even though she knew that the girl most certainly wasn't trying to be insensitive. Most people functioned perfectly with just one hand and it wasn't likely that she would know that he wasn't really able to bend down.

"I've got it," she was quick to say. She stooped down to reach for his left foot and deliberately turned her back to the young nurse. She couldn't bring herself to be rude, but at the same time the only thing important to her was Elliot's comfort and she wasn't about to hesitate when it came to making sure no one messed with that. "Don't worry about it."

She helped him out of his shoes matter-of-factly and did her best to make the situation as nonchalant as possible, even though he ended up having to brace his hand on her shoulder to keep his balance at one point. Then she straightened back up and looked at the nurse expectantly.

He swallowed, standing rigidly straight and looking straight ahead at the wall in front of his face while the nurse moved the weights into balance.

"One sixty-six," the young woman said with a nod, after studying the scale for a moment to be sure it was even. She made a few marks on her clipboard. "Thank you. You can go ahead and step down." Her arm gestured further down the hall. "Exam room three is right this way."

She left them after they were inside with another painfully innocent smile and a promise that the doctor would see them shortly.

The silence quickly became overbearing in the small room and Kathy cleared her throat before moving awkwardly, gesturing toward his feet still in socks hesitantly. He said nothing but shifted forward in his chair obediently anyway with what seemed like reluctance and let her put his shoes back on.

Another ten minutes passed stiffly after she realized rather quickly that he wasn't favorable to talking and the two of them ended up staring awkwardly at different random things around the room.

Well….awkward to her, at least.

Elliot swore inwardly when the abrupt noise of the door opening made him jump and his heart race and tried his hardest to regain composure swiftly so they wouldn't notice. If they did, neither woman mentioned it. He recognized Doctor Murden on sight before she was all the way through the door but wasn't sure exactly how to feel. Part of him was relieved to see a woman, a slightly familiar one at that, but a bigger part of him remembered the last visit he'd had with this doctor and the intense discomfort it had caused.

"Hello," the doctor said pleasantly. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Stabler." She looked to Kathy with a smile. "I don't think we've met." She went towards her with her hand outstretched cordially. "Doctor Amanda Murden."

The blonde took it in a friendly grasp. "Kathy Stabler," she replied, smiling back politely.

"Pleased to meet you," Murden said with a nod.

She was right to business, hasty while remaining friendly as she went right to the computer mounted beside the window to pull up the electronic system and accessed his file with a swift, practiced keystrokes.

"How's the pain been, Elliot?" she asked without preamble, her eyes focused on the screen diligently. "Any more manageable?"

Her manner was blunt and to the point, a practice Kathy was sure was just her professional manner, but unfortunately Elliot's manner was timid now. Being addressing with brusque tones or off-handedness seemed frightening to him; she had seen on a few painful occasions the misfortunate aftermath of that.

She knew from the moment she heard the other woman speak that it spelled potential disaster. On her feet quickly, she moved to the exam table he was sitting on to stand beside him.

His face was flaming as he ducked his head toward the ground, his emotions fluxing from shame at having being asked the intimate question to uncomfortable hesitance and uncertainty about trusting the woman. The feeling of a warm hand slipping through his at his side made him physically startle and made his head shoot back up.

He couldn't deny the feeling of relief it brought knowing his wife was right there. He swallowed and reflexively leaned closer to her shelter, his eyes fluttering slightly with comfort when he felt her arm come across his back to draw him into her.

He focused on that feeling to the point of complete oblivion. He wasn't sure how he was able to reply to the question the doctor had asked, or the next one, but he must have been because they kept coming. He didn't really hear any of them; Kathy spoke a lot as well so she might have been answering. He didn't know. He was just focused on her touch, so gentle and comforting.

Until suddenly a few words suddenly sucked his attention right onto Doctor Murden. He shifted abruptly, moving his hand slightly in Kathy's grasp and looking at her hopefully. Had he really heard…?

"Wait-what'd you say?" he asked almost breathlessly.

Kathy knew she was grinning like a fool but she couldn't stop herself. Hearing his suddenly awestruck tone made her smile even bigger, her heart bursting with affection and love.

The doctor's smile also broadened into almost playfulness excitement.

"I said," she repeated patiently, her tone giving away how truly happy it made her to be able to say the words, "that the incorporating of solid food back into your diet is doing well for your progress. You've gained nearly fifteen pounds since your initial admittance to the hospital back in December." Her smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Your weight seems to be getting itself back up to normal quite nicely…I can safely say that it looks like you're ready to eat normally again."

Elliot almost lost his breath with excitement but couldn't help the hesitance that crept up despite it. He cocked his head at the doctor slightly, gauging her, and then turned toward his wife anxiously, daring for confirmation that it was, in fact, really happening.

The happiness shining on her face undid his control. He couldn't help the way his voice sounded when he looked back at Doctor Murden, almost strained with disbelieving joy.

"I can really eat whatever I want?" he asked.

He was still cautious not to get his hopes up but his stomach was perking almost to the point of audibly voicing its opinion.

_Steak. Big, juicy steak with sautéed onions and A1 sauce…_

_Cheeseburger… oh God, one of those thick cheeseburgers from D'Gassio's with a toasted bun. And French fries. Oh my God, __**French**__**fries**_…

Christ, he was practically _drooling_. It was embarrassing.

But God help him, he couldn't stop it.

The doctor couldn't help but chuckle at the look on his face. He looked like a kid who just woken up on Christmas morning to a living room full of toys.

"Well, I wouldn't break out a bowl of salt to celebrate," she warned, her voice curbing seriously again to let him know she meant it. But her eyes twinkled anyway. "But…yes. Really."

His smile was large and stretched almost to his eyes when he turned his head back to his wife once more.

"Chinese?" he asked hopefully, raising his eyebrows pleadingly.

His unspoken request rang clearly and Kathy couldn't stop the merry laugh that escaped at his expression. _God_ it felt so good to see that wonderful smile. She smiled back at him widely but still glanced over at the doctor just to make sure. The other woman winked and nodded.

"You know it," she answered. Unable to stand it any more, she wrapped her other arm around him and hugged him, overjoyed and bursting with affection. "I think there's even a place close by, right up the block from here."

"Congratulations," Doctor Murden said warmly, her eyes still shining merrily. "Enjoy…you deserve it."

They had to stay a few minutes more so that the doctor could finish asking a few more questions and updating information.

He was almost swinging his legs in the air while he sat, he was so excited.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The drive back to her apartment was like a fog. Olivia drove on autopilot the entire way and then started in surprise when she found herself in her parking spot with no recollection of traveling. She could have killed someone on the way home for all she knew.

_What am I going to do?_

The question continued relentlessly pounding into her brain anxiously as it had been since the moment she'd been told what the meeting with her superiors had been about. Her heart was in knots, her stomach was rolling like she had the flu, and her pulse was pounding in overdrive making her muscles shake.

They wanted her back at work. In three days. 72 hours. There was no choice- she had to eat and make rent. She had to work. There was no choice.

She swallowed, feeling nauseous again as she leaned her head back against the driver's seat.

She hadn't said it to the captain, the chief, or the commissioner- she _couldn't- _but the thought of trying to return to life the way she'd known it before terrified her. It terrified her to the very core.

For the rest of her entire life, she would never be able to forget that raw fear that had consumed her during the five weeks Elliot had been gone. Never. Knowing that he was out there somewhere, _taken_, and that not even her best efforts were enough to ensure he was alive…eventually the despair had become part of her, a deep gaping chasm splitting her soul.

Despite how much she had tried to fight it during their eight years as partners, he had become the most cherished person in her world, and having this happen had served as a sharp reminder of exactly why she had so stubbornly tried to keep from getting so close. For all her efforts at keeping herself independent, being forcefully kept apart had destroyed her. He was just too big a part of her life. Her ability to function had disappeared right along with him.

_So why does it seem like I still can't now that I have him back?_

The thought made her stomach physically churn. All this time she had kept it hidden, deep in the hollows of her emotions, pretending like if she didn't acknowledge it the concept wouldn't exist-

She had just acknowledged it. To herself. The one person she had been fighting like hell for the past two _God damned_ months against because her entire life had been built on dismissing her feelings for the sake of her independence and pride and ignoring the toll it took.

She was afraid of letting him go.

Eight years of friendship and fights and a bond that made them hate each other more than any other person in the world and love each other to the point of insanity at one time had suddenly been put on the line, _Bam_. A cruel endurance test from the most sadistic of instructors, snatching Elliot away and then getting in her face, taunting her.

"_Where does your strength __**really**__ come from, Detective Benson? Can you still succeed when he's no longer beside you?"_

She swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, her hands gripping the prone steering wheel with white-knuckled vengeance.

It was her test. Her best friend had been put through hell all because she'd had the _blatant arrogance_ to take his place in her life for granted.

And she'd failed it. She hadn't been able to succeed without him…she had only been able to survive. What was the point of success if her best friend couldn't share it with her?

She was afraid to let herself attempt to get on with her life, so by default she was hindering Elliot from the chance to do the same. The only success she'd had this entire time was in ensuring that he would still be beside her. Instead of being his _partner_ through his trials, encouraging and taking every difficult step with him, she had been a weight keeping him still because of her own selfish fears.

God, he deserved so much better than that.

Olivia bowed her head and sank her chin to the top of her chest. Wetness slicked the top of her shirt collar as tears trailed down her cheeks and she didn't even care.

_He deserves __**so much better.**__ He deserves to __**know**__ that he deserves it. _

She couldn't be selfish anymore.

She already knew what it felt like to have him gone from her life and that she couldn't handle the sacrifice.

She could handle facing the possibility of her own death each day when she came to work. She could handle the choices she had made with herself and the consequences it brought for her personal and social life by being as dedicated to the job as she was.

She couldn't handle having Elliot Stabler out of her life. He was the best partner she could have ever asked for, but an even better person. She wouldn't even know _how_ to ask for someone just like him.

And neither of them deserved to let seven demons straight from the mouths of hell come into the picture to destroy that.

It scared the hell out of her. The possibility was very real of what could happen. He might only be able to get on with his life by leaving hers.

If that's what it ultimately came down to…she would sacrifice. She loved the man more than she loved the label- she could get a new partner, a new best friend if she had to…there was no replacement for Elliot Stabler.

But hopefully, she wouldn't have to sacrifice any of it. Hopefully she could still have all three.

When her phone rang from the seat beside her, it startled her from her deep thoughts so hard that she almost yelped. Her hand shot over beside her automatically to retrieve it and flip it open.

"Benson," she answered, even as she was checking the caller ID.

"Liv?" She hadn't expected to hear Elliot when she saw that it was Kathy's phone number on her display. He sounded so different that she had to check her hearing. "Liv, guess what?"

_Oh my…God._

It was excitement. What she was hearing in his voice…it was _excitement_.

_Oh…my God!_

"What?" she supplied dutifully, but her lips were already stretched into such a big smile that it hurt. Her heart was ready to burst.

"We're getting _Chinese _food right now, Olivia!"

The absolute glee carrying through the receiver was so shocking and wonderful that she was rendered dumbfounded. His words were practically a rush as he exploded on, like a kid who had just seen Santa.

"We went to the doctor and she said I can eat whatever I want and we're getting _Chinese food_ right this second!" he continued in a breathless rush. "Oh God Liv it smells so good…oh my God, oh my God I can't believe it!-"

She heard Kathy's voice cutting into his giddiness, heard the huffed laugh as she attempted to get his attention through his delighted chatter into the phone. It took saying his name twice and then his voice was abruptly paused. She listened to the other woman speaking to him and the words made her chuckle, along with the lightness of her voice. She knew without question that Kathy was as excited as she was right now too.

"Oh! Yeah-" Elliot came back as explosively as he had left. "What do you want to get? We're going to get you some too and then we'll be back home, in a minute. You want some, right?"

Her heart swelled fourteen sizes and she laughed out loud as the relief, tenderness, and undeniable heavenly gratitude made her weightless.

Maybe she _could_ have all three.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The storms didn't arrive until almost midnight. The constant attempts from warm, unseasonably sunny air to sneak through the chilled frigidity of February ended up exploding through, resulting in a violent onslaught of torrential rain, thunder, and lightning that made the earlier day's drizzling seem almost insulting and caught the occupants of the city completely unaware.

She wasn't sure how many she slept through, but Olivia was most definitely awakened at some point in the barrage by a burst of thunder.

_Christ, _she thought angrily once she was breathing normally again.

_Awakened?_

Bit of an understatement there. What name did one give for the sensation of a noise not unlike what she imagined a volcano might make abruptly splitting the air, shaking the walls and the very _bed_ she was sleeping in, and making her body fly out of deep sleep so hard that she almost did a summersault over the edge onto the floor?

_**Kamikazed**_, she amended bitterly.

Lightning lit up the room through the window again, making her wince against the brightness as she repositioned the quilt over herself again resignedly.

_Who the hell has thunderstorms in February, for God's sake-_

KA-BLOOM.

She jumped involuntarily again, hearing the lamp beside her bed rattle from the vibration. She shook her head in angry disbelief. Like she was supposed to sleep now?

_Jesus…this is Manhattan, not fucking Kans-_

The entire thought was abruptly trampled on when she realized that Elliot was being skinned alive out in her living room.

At least, that's what it _sounded _like from the scream she heard come through the hallway. It shocked her into freezing for approximately two seconds and then a realization dawned that made her almost puke.

"Oh, God," she murmured in horror, her face scrunching into an instinctive flinch even as she shot over the side of the bed fast to her feet.

_Fucking hell…_she thought in panic as she quickly turned on the hall light to avoid tripping as she hastened her pace. It hadn't crossed her mind before but suddenly made crystal clear, painful sense. Guilt berated her every step as she skidded out into the kitchen.

_All he's been through and you __**aren't **__already anticipating that this most likely scares the living fuck out of him? Jesus, Olivia…_

Another thunder artillery slammed into the apartment. But before she could move to alert him of her presence as she stepped through the doorway of the kitchen, a different sound genuinely surprised her-

_Thumpthumpthump__**thumptthumpthump!**_

-and caught her unprepared a second too late as feet scurried heavily in her direction.

The impact smarted when Elliot collided into her with all of the force of a building tornado, obviously not expecting her to be standing there as he made what she was sure had to be a terrified dash toward the safety of her bedroom. He yelped in surprise for a split second and then was wrapped around her with all of the likeness of a North American snake before she could blink.

She could hear him whining anxiously but for the moment the only priority her instincts allowed her to do was try to keep from letting his weight bowl the both of them backwards and right into the tiled kitchen floor.

"Whoa…Elliot," she gasped.

Her arms flew around his back out of pure reflex, her right foot shooting out behind her to brace the force of momentum. She rocked forward again to successfully alleviate the potential takedown and took in a relieved breath.

He was clenching her back tight enough to cut off air supply and had done a face plant into her neck. His eyes and nose were completely smashed between her neck and the right side of her face as he babbled something with obvious tearfulness.

She again had to let her instincts take over first, tilting her head back in order to breathe around the mass of his head lobbying to cover her mouth. "Whoa, _whoa_, sweetie," she repeated again.

She had to grimace sadly when she attempted to rub over the knots in his back and was barely able to move her fingers because of how tense it was. As if right on cue for Worst Timed Moment, lightning flashed over them and preceded another thunder boom. He jumped and whimpered some more and squeezed harder to make her gasp for breath.

"Elliot, it's okay, honey," she hurried to say anxiously, hugging him tightly. "Shh, it's okay." She moved her hand up to stroke through his hair and scalp. "I've got you, baby. Everything's okay, I've got you."

She cradled the back of his neck in silent despair and lowered her head, pressing her cheek into the side of his and kissing the damp flesh.

"It's just a storm," she soothed, with expert calm to balance his sniffles and hitched breaths. She rubbed his back again, this time forcing the stubborn muscles to accept the touch. "Just a bad storm, that's all. Everything's okay. I promise."

He remained tightly locked against her, muscles tight with dread of the thunder, but as more time passed with no sign of it he hesitantly started to ease up a little. His grip didn't falter, a disappointment for her own selfish comfort level, but he did at least move his face out from against her. He settled it again so his head tucked under her chin but at least she could see more of him.

"I d-don't like it," he murmured, sniffling again as he nuzzled against her throat instinctively. Tears clung stubbornly to his lower lashes and dropped onto the front of his shirt. "I want it to stop, Olivia, I don't like it." His voice began to crack as the tears prepared to build their second wind.

Olivia's face twisted sympathetically. "Oh, baby," she said softly, dropping her lips to breathe into his hair. "I know." She hugged him tighter and gently swayed his form in her arms. "I know. I don't like it either."

She wanted to say something else but didn't know what, and after a minute just gave up in favor of reaffirming her presence by touch. He didn't seem to mind, as he eventually turned his head back into her neck and snuggled into her embrace with a soft sigh. He didn't say anything either.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He knew that he would be able to get away with not coming in for another day, and hell, quite frankly, he should have been using the opportunity. It was almost practically the first day since damned November of last year that he would have been able to relax. _Truly_ relax.

The verdict had come. The bastards were going to prison. Elliot was home and he didn't have to worry about if he was safe anymore. _He_ was home, finally out of hotel rooms and court rooms and long-hour car rides. He deserved this day of freedom more than any other day.

But it didn't stop John from heading into work bright and early Friday morning.

Fin was most likely going to call him insane…he knew his partner. He didn't even have to predict that Fin was most definitely not going to be at work until the day he was expected to.

Unfortunately, John knew he would have no such luxury. He was better off forcing himself to stay occupied so that his mind wouldn't have the opportunity to wander back into that dark despair that was still sitting quietly in the corner of his heart.

He had a feeling it was never going to truly be gone and it made him curse his experience and logic. Damn his practicality…damn this fucking job and all that it had done to harden him.

Yes, Elliot was back home and John would never be able to repay the eternal gratitude that fact gave him. Yes, the verdict had gone through as guilty and yes, those bastards _were_ going to prison…but none of that could change the past.

Punishing them wouldn't take away the damage they had inflicted and it couldn't take away the scars.

It wouldn't take away Elliot's memories. It wouldn't give Elliot back the weeks of his life robbed by the torture and terror he was forced to suffer at the hands of those relics. It wouldn't give Elliot's family back the weeks spent in fear from not knowing what was happening to him.

Olivia could never go back to that moment in the warehouse that had changed her life in a split second. Fin could never get back the countless nights he spent lingering in the squad room late into the night just so he could make certain that no one touched anything on Elliot's desk before leaving. Cragen would never be able to forget the feeling of panicked uncertainty that had spurring him to keep such close tabs on the rest of them during the whole nightmare, because he'd had to face the devastating reality that his team was not in fact invincible as much as they tried to act like it.

And he could no go back to erase the guilt that came from one small moment of hot-headed temper that normally could have been blown over within an hour and what it had meant afterward. Trivial words had been suddenly transformed into a precious life on the line and the accompanying despair of what that meant.

So of course he was going to go into work. He already knew what would happen if he didn't, if he let himself indulge the memories.

It would be just like the decades past when his father had committed suicide…he wouldn't be able to function. He'd keep thinking about it and thinking about it, agonizing and getting angry and drowning in despair, until he wouldn't be able to think of Elliot anymore without resenting him for the feelings this had brought out.

He couldn't give himself the chance to let that happen.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Walking down the bustling hallway felt…._funny_ for some reason but she couldn't put her finger on a reason why. Her gait seemed off, like her feet weren't in rhythm with each other, which was weird because, as far as she could tell anyway, she seemed to be walking in cadence with every one else around her. And it…smelled different somehow, even though she knew there was no plausible way for the decades-old linoleum and plaster to have been abruptly redone since she had gone to Buffalo.

"Morning, Casey."

She wasn't even paying attention to anyone, she was so preoccupied with her quizzical thoughts, and the unexpected voice made her jump. She came up out of the daze instinctively despite the fact that her mind was still miles away.

She immediately noticed Defense Attorney Ian Feldman, a colleague and good friend, looking at her with a slightly put-out expression. She had almost completely passed him without even noticing.

"Hey, Ian," she replied, stretching her face into a forced smile instantly and putting on her practiced voice of sincerity. "Sorry…didn't see you."

He smiled at her with a bemused shake of his head. "You look like you just stepped off the Mothership," he said in a teasing voice, and squinted at her theatrically. "Are you _sure_ you're not a pod person?"

Casey couldn't help the genuine chuckle that escaped her lips as she shook her head in amusement. "Ask me in a few more hours," she said wryly, her grin widening for a second. She chuckled again as she began resuming her pace. "I got to go in, I'll talk to you later."

Ian chuckled as well, nodding his acquiescence as she passed him. "Later," he replied, heading the opposite way again. A sudden thought came into his head, though, that made him stop and turn around. He raised his voice towards her retreating back so she would hear. "Oh, hey…Casey!"

Even so, she barely managed to catch the tail end of her name and it startled her. She whipped back toward him in surprise and saw him walking backwards as he spoke.

"Heard you kicked ass in Buffalo," he said, smiling. She felt her stomach flip-flop and her guts turn to water as she anticipated his next words instinctively. "Congrat-"

"Yeah-I-" She cut him off hastily with a forced apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Ian, I'm…I'm really late." She began walking backwards as well awkwardly. "See you."

She turned away quickly before she could see his answering expression and swallowed hard.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Olivia could see his hands clenching with anticipation from where he sat at the breakfast bar and it made her smile in amused affection.

"You want it heated up?" she asked, glancing over at him again as she finished scooping a generous portion of leftover fried rice into the small ceramic bowl.

He nodded. She removed the spoon and stuck the bowl in the microwave, pushing the button for a minute. The appliance whirred to life busily as she turned back and began closing the flaps of the cardboard take-out carton.

Elliot's eyebrows crinkled curiously as he cocked his head toward her. "Hey, you're not going to have any breakfast?" he asked.

Her grimace was immediate and her expression disgusted when she faced him, exaggerated enough so he knew she was teasing. The microwave beeped and she went to it, opening the door.

"I'm one of those weirdos who actually likes to eat _breakfast_ food first thing in the morning," she cracked sarcastically, grinning as she walked with the steaming bowl carefully to the bar. She set it down in front of him. "Insane, I know."

Her last words may as well have not been said at all, as he had obviously stopped paying her mind the moment the food was before him. He practically toppled the bowl over in his enthusiasm, piling up the spoon with a heaping amount of rice and aiming it at his mouth in a span of three seconds.

"Whoa there, Ace," she said, quickly fending her hands up, but was unable to keep from chuckling. "Try not to choke."

He just grinned at her cheekily with his mouth full and continued to wolf down his rice. She shook her head, walking back to the cabinets and pawing through her sparse cereal selection so that he wouldn't see her lips twitching from holding in laughter.

Never in a million years would she have ever thought that one day she would actually miss watching her partner eat.

Even only after their first days together she had observed and learned about him quickly- for a man who tried so hard to appear unruffled and unwavering at work, Elliot was almost comically simple to read underneath the exterior toughness. His eating habits had always been especially amusing, as they were so different from her own.

For her, the thread of her patience and temper seemed to correlate with the way her stomach felt. She would be the first to admit that hunger turned her absolutely evil…she couldn't help it, it was just something that had apparently been stamped into her system. Going too long without food made her cranky and irritable; that's just how it was.

She knew that, had always known that, and thankfully had learned to have enough sense to keep herself energized throughout the day in order to function. Fortunately for her colleagues, she was never stingy about sharing…it didn't take long for newbies on the squad to learn that the bottom drawer of Benson's desk was the place to go during a sudden attack of munchies.

Elliot, on the other hand, was the type who wouldn't break out of focus if something had his attention well enough unless he was forced to. Multi-tasking was definitely not his strongest talent…Cragen was driven nearly nuts whenever he had them working on different angles of a case he gave them together because it was impossible to get her partner to attempt to explore multiple directions if he had his mind set on a particular one.

Coffee notwithstanding (because good _Lord…_he downed that stuff almost nonstop and some days she contemplated giving him a paper cut just to see if liquid caffeine would seep out of his skin instead of blood), most of the time her partner ignored his growling stomach until it became loud enough to piss someone off (usually her) and then would shovel down whatever meal it was time for like a caveman dying of starvation.

She prepared her own breakfast and sat down beside him, digging her spoon into the Frosted Flakes. For a while the only noise in the kitchen came from their utensils clicking against their bowls and their mouths chewing. She could tell almost immediately that he was actively trying to avoid having to talk but at the moment, frankly that was just fine with her. There wasn't much to say that didn't involve both of their memories from the situation the previous night.

Cowardly as it was, on her part she wasn't in a hurry to revisit it anytime soon. She knew rationally that eventually there was going to be no choice- he was going to have to talk to _someone_ about more of the details that he had been furiously working to stay out of his mind each day sooner or later, because eventually it would build up and he definitely couldn't afford that. Whether or not it would be _her_, she had no idea, but for now she definitely knew that the possibility of it scared her more than she liked to admit.

So she was fine with not talking for now.

The knock on the front door came as she was chasing the last soggy bits of cereal around with her spoon in frustration, trying to capture them as they continued to slither away from her. Neither of them was startled, as she had already told him soon after he had awakened to expect Kathy to come by around breakfast time. It didn't stop her from checking the peephole first but Olivia didn't even register thinking about it. The action had become automatic.

"Morning," the blonde said cheerily as Olivia stepped aside to let her walk in.

She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a casual blue sweater that looked fantastic against her pale skin. Her makeup was simpler than what the other woman was used to seeing on her during the weekdays and her hair was twisted up messily into a clip.

It was funny, but it seemed like the first time that Olivia noticed how pretty Kathy really was. She had always joked with Elliot in the early days (though after the divorce, she'd had the sense not to try again) because, even for as long as they'd been friends and partners, she had always had difficulty imagining him taking the role of tender, devoting husband at home after seeing the gritty, serious detective all day at work. But somehow, seeing Kathy like that just then, she was suddenly able to see a crystal clear image of her partner melting with just one lift of the eyebrows that floated above the woman's wide, lovely eyes. She smiled softly at the thought.

"Good morning," she replied. She noticed that Kathy had no coat on as she removed her purse from her shoulder, and questioned it. "Has it warmed up today?"

"No," she replied with a grin, looking back at Olivia as she walked ahead of her towards the kitchen. "But the heater in the car works like a dream and I was roasting during the drive over here…I figured a walk through the parking lot without it wouldn't kill me."

"Hi, Kath."

Elliot greeted her from where he sat as soon as he saw her. Kathy pretended not to notice that her face immediately began to glow with proud affection and Olivia pretended not to feel her heart puff up tenderly. Both pretended that they weren't thinking about how wonderful it was to see him at the kitchen table eating and interacting with what now passed for him as close to enthusiasm.

The other woman quickly declined Olivia's offer of breakfast, claiming she had already eaten before coming over, and flopped down in the chair across from Elliot without waiting for an invitation.

Olivia smiled to herself as she went to set her now-empty cereal bowl in the sink. Obviously Elliot wasn't the only one feeling more comfortable.

The three of them settled into companionable company sitting at the breakfast bar. Olivia got Kathy a glass of iced tea and the blonde poked fun as she watched her ex-husband finishing his bowl of rice, feigning disgust and reproach at his food choice in a way that sounded to Olivia like an automatic slip back to affectionate teasing that Kathy had done when she and Elliot had been still married. The belief strengthened when she heard her partner taunt the other woman in reply with exaggerated smacking of his lips and a slow pull of food from his spoon.

His smile was infectious. Olivia wanted to bottle the feeling it gave her so that she would never have to miss it. As he got up and picked up his bowl with one hand, carrying it to the sink, she met Kathy's eyes and they shared a grin.

Seeing the twinkle in the other woman's brown eyes, Kathy was still smiling as she reached for her glass.

"So, I was thinking," she said conversationally, her lips pausing before making contact so that she could speak. She alternated looking in Elliot's direction with looking across the table at Olivia with camaraderie, but was obviously addressing him. "I don't really have anything else planned today, but why don't we head over to your place early, Elliot? That way we'll have plenty of time to pick up whatever you need from the store."

Olivia's smile lurched from her face and she swore that her stomach fell straight through the floor.

_Oh, fuck. Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

Christ, she was a shit. They'd talked about it, the day before. After he and Kathy had come back to her apartment and they'd eaten the Chinese food, he had left to use the restroom and the two of them had ventured into the topic out of his hearing range. Kathy knew about the situation she was agonizing over with work, Olivia hadn't kept it a secret. She had found herself calling the other woman several nights in a row as she lay in her bed in the quiet darkness, unable to sleep and her mind tormented, trying desperately to keep her voice soft so Elliot would never hear even though he was all the way across the apartment.

She had finally decided the previous night that she was going to carefully bring up the subject with Elliot of when both women had to return to work full-time and then would have Kathy come over in the morning so that he would have reassurance from both of them as they talked it over in earnest. It had made her feel guilty, but Olivia knew that if she waited until Kathy was there to break the news initially, she wouldn't be able to go through with it.

And then she'd chickened out and let Elliot go to bed unaware of what was on her mind. Again. And Kathy had no idea.

So of course the other woman had assumed that she had already told him about it. And seeing as he was talking, joking around and being almost _cheerful_ for the first time in…it made sense that she just thought that Elliot was open to the idea. There was no reason to think otherwise with the current behavior being displayed right in front of her because she thought Olivia had already mentioned it. Because it had been Olivia's idea in the first place and she had trusted her.

It took two seconds for Kathy to recognize the look of confusion and anxiety on Elliot's face as he stopped still beside the sink and realize he had absolutely no clue about any of it. Her eyes shot back to Olivia's, shocked and startled, and the detective had to fight to keep from cringing.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking from Kathy back to her.

His earlier pleasant tone was gone now, his voice soft and achingly nervous, and damn if it didn't just kill her to see his expression changing into guardedness once again. All because of her. _Damn_ it.

Biting her lip resignedly, Olivia sighed with regret and shook her head in apology toward the other woman. "Come here, Elliot," she said gently, drawing her arm out and gesturing lightly. "We need to talk to you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He kept his hand on the counter top, skimming his palm along it hesitantly, but nevertheless came closer to the table. He stopped a few steps away from where his partner sat, though, and didn't move to sit himself. It became apparent that he didn't intend to.

The two women glanced at each other again and he saw their nervousness.

Naturally, it made _him_ nervous too.

"What?" he asked dreadfully, feeling his heart already starting to race.

Olivia glanced at Kathy again. "Elliot," she said slowly. "Yesterday…" She seemed to be having trouble getting the words out, stumbling like she was unpracticed with the language. "Remember when I had to go meet with Commissioner Geist at the station?"

Her tone made it sound like she almost…_almost_ was hoping he wouldn't have remembered, and for some reason it made a surge of indignity flare up in his chest. It shocked him as soon as he realized what it was, not having been expecting it.

"Yeah, of course," he said softly, nodding easily. If his voice indicated the feeling, he didn't know it.

She looked grim, sucking in her bottom lip momentarily. "It wasn't…it wasn't just with him," she confessed, her eyes flickering down to the floor for a minute. "Chief Stoneman, and Cragen were there too."

Try as he might, Elliot couldn't figure out any reason at all why his partner seemed to be so nervous as she told him that. Aside from Cragen, the other two names didn't immediately recall any memories of faces or voices belonging to them, just vague impressions of having heard them sometime before.

For a long minute, the table was silent and he took the opportunity to look at Kathy. He didn't like what he saw. Her face was tight and her mouth set in a grim line, her eyes unable to hide nervousness. Almost panicked now, he turned back toward Olivia with an anxious expression.

"I have to go back to work, Elliot."

Before he could open his mouth to question her, his partner was spitting out words in a frenzied rush like she was afraid to keep quiet any longer. She couldn't tell if his startled face was a result of her words or the way she had delivered them. She swallowed, inhaling shakily through her nose and ordering herself to calm down.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

"I'm about to run out of leave time," she started up again quietly, "and there isn't any way to keep paying to live here once that's gone."

He could only stare at her. She was avoiding his gaze for once and he could see her repeatedly biting her lip. Seeing her struggle, Kathy hesitantly decided to break in after a minute.

"We just need to figure out what to do because we're not going to be able to have the same schedules anymore with Olivia and I both working full-time," she said, trying hard to come across as calm and gentle. "That's all we're saying, El." She smiled at him reassuringly. "And we thought that you might want to go back to your apartment, see if you feel comfortable."

Elliot's expression had suddenly become so sad that it made her breath catch and she almost began to panic. Had she upset him? God, she was trying hard not to upset him…

Olivia was also looking at him again by that point and grew alarmed by his face as well. The feeling increased tenfold when he turned toward her.

"You don't…want me here anymore?"

His voice was soft and she could feel every bit of the devastation that was quietly coursing through him as he averted his eyes so he wouldn't be looking at her. Olivia swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat hard and got up abruptly to come beside him.

"No," she choked, shaking her head frantically as tears threatened to escape. She gripped his hand tightly, clasping it with hers almost desperately. "No, honey. That's not true. That's not true for one second." She rubbed the back of his hand. "I love you, Elliot, I would never, _ever_ not want you here."

His face began to twist while she spoke, even as she tried her hardest to sound reassuring, and it made her stomach hurt. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he just knew. He could sense that he was going to end up with a broken heart once she was done speaking.

She swallowed. "It's just-" She almost choked, it hurt so badly to say the words. "Elliot, I won't be able to be here very often and I'll have to leave all of the time. I don't want to do that to you."

He looked at her helplessly and she had to swallow again.

_I don't want to do that at all._

Kathy gently broke in. "And you deserve your home, El," she said softly, eyes shining sympathetically. "You deserve to go back to something that's all yours."

_You deserve your __**life**__ back, _she wanted to say. But she didn't.

He looked over at her then and the pain in his eyes cut her deeply inside. She concentrated on controlling her breathing.

He looked back and forth between the both of them, silently, over and over, and his eyes narrowed dejectedly. He stared firmly at the table top.

"You guys _are _my home," he whispered softly.

Suffocating silence choked them as they all struggled with their composures. Olivia reached blindly beside her to wrap her arms around his shoulders and he turned into her quickly, hugging her with a surprising intensity.

"Nothing is going to change that," she managed to say, rubbing one hand up and down his back. She lowered her head, trying to get into his personal space non-intrusively so he would really hear her. "Hey…Elliot, nothing would change that. We're always going to be here for you, no matter where we are. I promise you that."

He said nothing. Pursing her lips against his shoulder, she lifted her head and looked across the table at the other woman. The silent plea was clear. Kathy was on her feet and coming around to join them in a second.

"That's right," she added softly, stepping up around his other side and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. She stared at his bowed head with her eyes crinkled sadly. "We love you…so, so much. We're going to be with you, baby, always. Always."

He felt her hand come to rest on his back too, soft and warm just like he had always remembered it.

Olivia sighed quietly in sympathy and kept rubbing his back. "We're not expecting you to make any decisions right now," she soothed softly. "But why don't we just all go take a trip to the apartment anyway, just to make sure everything looks alright? There might be something there that you might want to get."

He said nothing in reply, just closed his eyes and remained clouded in the darkness against his partner's shoulder. He didn't see their shared looks of anxiety and anxiousness over his head.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A small twinge in his stomach made him pause in his shuffling of papers and consider what to do. He knew the sign well. It was his body's imitation of a sky darkening before an approaching storm…not yet an immediate threat but carrying the foreboding of what was certain to come. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry at that moment, but he hadn't eaten since his early lunch before noon. It wouldn't take long for the twinge to become glorified rumbling demands for sustenance.

Cragen checked his watch and considered some more. It was just about 5:30. The squad room outside of his closed office door had been practically empty all day and still was, meaning that either a hoard of perverts had unexpectedly chosen Sunday to be the new peak time for action or that most of his detectives were trying to hold on to what little time was left of the "weekend" while they had to be at work by staying out on duty calls as long as possible in order to stay away from the office work.

He knew he was kidding himself for choosing to believe the first reason but decided that Monday already had enough potential for a foul mood and he didn't really feel like starting early.

With a weary sigh, he let his eyes focus away from the writing that was starting to blur and stretched back against his chair to uncurl his stiff muscles. He groaned as he thought about how long he had been sitting there, making himself practically cross-eyed from staring down at impossibly small and mostly messy handwriting. He was tempted to take the advantage and just leave the rest to deal with in the morning.

He blew through his cheeks as he glanced around his desk and at the two pages he was currently working on. A wry, humorless chuckle passed his lips. _Yeah, right._ The stack of forms that he had already looked through was meager and pathetic compared to the one still waiting for his attention, and he had already forgotten the majority of what he had read as it was. Putting it off just made the pile bigger, who the hell was he kidding?

Don just couldn't believe how fast it seemed like word had circulated about a spot becoming open in the unit. He had only just begun spreading the email to the supervisors of other departments a few days ago.

Of course, if he had to be honest with himself, this should have been done much earlier and he hadn't done much to help matters. He hadn't even actually made himself sit down and prepare the hiring memo until the end of last week, although though Commissioner Geist had talked to him almost a full month ago about getting it done.

He had tried to get a jump on it right after the Commissioner told him to…he really had. But every time he had begun to compose the notice, he hadn't been able to get further than the very first letter of the opening greeting. It still just…didn't feel _right_ to be doing it.

Even though his spot had been obviously vacant since December, the squad still collectively felt like Elliot was still there. His desk was empty and his partner was solo but it didn't matter because he wasn't _gone_, the squad was just waiting for when he came back. He had been missing for a long time but there had been no question that they would find him- no question, just fact, they _would_ because it was Elliot and of course they were going to keep looking for him until the day they found him. They had looked because they had been waiting for him to come back and now they were still just waiting.

Unfortunately, though, "just waiting" didn't fly with Chief Stoneman. He had called Don the day before to warn him that the official word had already been sent around the department about an open position in the SVU and to expect to see the applications selected for the first round of interviews sometime early the next week.

Now here it was, barely even done with the first day of the week in question, and Don found himself with two dozen or so identical sheets of copy paper each emblazoned boldly with "APPLICATION FOR HIRE." He sat stonily, looking over the faces of strangers that the Chief had selected to be qualified for consideration, and felt such a strong burning of betrayal that his chest ached. He still just couldn't understand it….they had barely gotten the word out and already it seemed like half of the New York Police Department was frothing at the mouth with the desire to replace Detective Elliot Stabler.

He was supposed to be looking over them, familiarizing himself with each one, but here it was nearing the end of the day and he had been sifting through the same stack since almost noon without really seeing them. It was all just a worthless effort and he knew it. He knew he wasn't objective in the least…seeing each application just made him _angry_ and he had selfishly been letting himself indulge in it for hours, wasting time and effort willingly.

_Usually getting someone to voluntarily request placement in the SVU is like pulling teeth, nobody wants to do __**sex crimes. **__Why is it that once word gets out that a certain detective's position is available there are more than double the amount of requests to fill it than what we see normally? _

_Elliot has made himself a reputation, there's no denying that. Practically every precinct around here knows more than enough about the times he explodes on a perp or coworker. Hardly anyone even __**bothers**__ to look for any of the good he does anymore, it's like a big game to everyone…"Hey guys, what do you say, 50 bucks to the one who predicts which scumbag Stabler is going to scream at this week?" _

_Half of these applications probably came from guys who've worked with him before and gotten pissed off at something he did when he let another bout of stupidity take over and make him blow up instead of taking a minute to think about what he was doing. They're probably chomping at the bit for the chance to get rid of him._

Clenching his teeth, he shook his head and forced himself out of the thoughts again. He was being incredibly unreasonable. It _was_ true that most veterans of the force didn't request a job with their unit- even though he hadn't been paying as close attention to this task as he should have, he still had been able to discern extremely easily the fact that almost 90 of the applications in front of him were from rookies with less than five years under their belts.

He knew that he was typecasting unfairly too and it brought a tinge of shame to his cheeks. It didn't matter who Elliot may or may not have upset in the past, no fellow man or woman with a badge would ever gloat or wish this senseless cruelty on him. The outpouring of support on Elliot's behalf from fellow officers was bigger than anything he had ever seen in his career before. Agencies not even related to _policing_ had made it a point to contact them wishing condolences and sympathies- Cragen had personally received calls and emails from several correction facilities and parole offices, some from as far away as Delaware.

No, it was all in his head. None of this was an attack on Elliot- for God's sake, it was just a _hiring process_. The department went through this exact routinely roughly every six months in preparation for the annual productivity evaluation for each squad. Christ, as if _he _of all people should have a problem with looking at applications…he _was_ after all the captain of perhaps the single most frequently-shuffled squad in the entire department. He could literally count on almost one hand the number of officers who were still steadily working in his squad amidst the almost clockwork two-year rotation of transfers around them (_almost_, he did have to sneak in the thumb of his other hand in order to include Briscoe in there but he always decided that didn't count).

An amused smile flitted his lips at that thought until something occurred to him that saddened him almost immediately.

Now he really _did_ only have to use one hand for them all.

Pursing his lips, Don closed his eyes and then took a steadying breath. He resumed the task of flipping through pages with quiet resignation.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The evening had been difficult. It had been painful watching as he practically tiptoed around his own apartment, gazing at his belongings as if he had never seen them before in his entire life. His apartment was nowhere near what could be considered large, so seeing him creeping across the floor, gazing up and around him with almost awe on his face had made Kathy nearly choke with spontaneous emotion.

What had startled both she and Olivia, though, was when it became obvious that he was deliberately avoiding every room he passed by as they walked through the hall. He had approached the bathroom, the guest room, and his bedroom hesitantly and stopped in the doorway of each one to look inside without stepping foot over the threshold. Then he had kept on walking without a word.

Kathy had looked at Olivia in slight concern when she noticed. The brunette returned the gaze subtly but appeared more focused on watching his silent form as it moved in front of them, continuing to walk along behind him after a minute.

She had bitten her lip as she followed after them. As much as she'd wanted to say something, she had decided to keep quiet about it. Almost as soon as they made it back around to the living room he had wanted to leave, go back to Olivia's, and they had conceded without comment.

Now she was sure that Olivia was regretting that decision. Because she definitely knew _she_ was. It was nearing seven, the sun was almost down, and Elliot had resorted to begging, so desperate that he was practically in tears. Both she and Olivia had to be at work in the morning and they were gently trying to persuade him into the idea of the two of them staying the night with him at his apartment instead going back to Olivia's.

He was reacting like they had just told him he was going to have his arm cut off and Kathy couldn't understand for the life of her why.

"El," she tried again, swallowing a lump in her throat. At the moment, she and Olivia were standing facing him, separated by the coffee table between them, and it suddenly felt to her like a face-off. The thought made her sick. "Honey, why don't you want to stay here?"

Elliot continued to shake his head violently. She saw his throat bobbing and she bit her lip, deciding to stop talking.

"Please." He was looking at his partner now. "Please, Liv...let's go back to your house, I want to go back to your house." His voice was starting to shake.

Kathy tore her eyes away from the painful sight when the moment of silence became stretched out into awkwardness. It surprised her a little to see Olivia biting her lip as she looked at him, barely concealed wetness sparkling in her eyes.

"Elliot."

The detective's voice gave away no hint of anything except soothing calm. Kathy admired and wondered how the other woman managed it because she herself had wanted nothing more than to hug him until her arms broke the minute this had started.

"If something is bothering you, we need you to tell us," she said softly, gazing at him tenderly. "We can help you, sweetheart….we want to help you." Her face softened. "But we need to know what the problem is before we can fix it." His eyes went to the floor, but not before she saw the deep etches of anguish crinkling his face. She paused a minute and then carefully repeated Kathy's question. "Why don't you want to stay here, Elliot?"

Though she realized she should have been expecting it, Kathy was still hit with a force that felt like a punch to the gut when he turned away, his face crumbling in what had become the painfully easy to recognize expression of tears. He sat down on the couch and turned away from them.

She and Olivia exchanged sorrowful looks. The detective pursed her lips gently and stepped lightly over around the other end of the coffee table until she could sit down softly beside him. Kathy continued to stand, feeling increasingly awkward with every passing moment and not liking it at all.

This was her _husband_, for God's sake. Why wasn't she the one doing this?

Olivia was silent for a few moments, looking like she was hesitating over what to do, and then she carefully laid a hand on his back. He didn't react to her touch at all and she didn't know whether or not to think of that as a good thing.

"Can you tell us what's wrong?" she finally murmured quietly.

She rubbed his back very gently, fingers barely touching him, and Kathy had to swallow hard. The gesture was so intimate, so…_familiar_, like it was practically second nature to the other woman. She wondered then just how many times Olivia touched him like that now.

She tried to think about the times _she _had touched Elliot like that. There had been a time, before. Before the awe of being parents and creating a life became replaced by routine. Before kisses good morning became pecks on the cheek and time became too consumed for sporadic "I love you" phone calls to each other during work hours.

Before this nightmare had come crashing into her life by destroying his.

He had his face turned into the side of the sofa now and was shrugging, but his back was to Olivia and essentially her too.

"I don't want to stay here," he said softly.

Olivia had to lean over to hear just that. Her lips pursed softly and she gently ran her hand up his back a little, knowing she had to watch her step. Her automatic reaction was to placate, to slip into the role of reassuring the victim. Yet at the same time she couldn't believe that her brain had instantly begun preparing this response. This was _Elliot_. She gritted her teeth resolutely and harshly chided herself.

_My best friend is not a victim. He was __**victimized**__._

"We're going to stay with you," she said delicately, for what felt like the tenth time that night. "Both of us will be here all night. We're not leaving." She paused painfully. "Are you sure you don't want to just stay for a little while? We could just see how we like it…"

It was painful to her own ears to what she was saying. It sounded like she was trying to pressure him and she didn't mean to, _God _she didn't ever mean to do that.

But she just wanted to give him some part of himself back. So desperately. She would do anything. Anything.

Her heart sank when he continued to shake his head and she somehow knew then that nothing she said was going to change his mind. They weren't going to be staying there that night.

She inhaled through her nose and nodded even though he wasn't even looking at her.

"We changed your locks," she said softly. She kept her hand on his back tenderly, wishing more than anything that she could just give him his sense of safety back. "And you'll have all of the copies of the keys. No one can have any access to them unless you give it to them, not even the super. We've already talked to him about it and he said that's fine."

She swallowed and looked over at Kathy sorrowfully, seeing the same expression in her eyes

"It's okay," she went on quietly, summoning up a smile so he could hear it in her voice but struggling with the urge to suddenly cry. "That's fine, Elliot. We'll lock up and go back to my house. I'll give you the keys so you can come back when you're ready."

Her throat was clogged and she had to keep swallowing. She was frustrated…God, she was so frustrated.

Frustrated with the situation because she needed to go back to work, she _needed _to-the desire to keep someone else from being destroyed like he was had become so strong over the past few days that she couldn't even think straight. Frustrated with herself for even _wanting_ to try to live again like she used when the most important person she had in her life would never be able to do the same. Because despite her best efforts he still couldn't completely relax, feel safe. Because he probably never would be able to again, ever.

Kathy was about to lose her composure. The despair that was enveloping the atmosphere was thick enough to feel. They were _all _beingdefeated by it with every passing second in this room. She swallowed and prayed fervently for strength for all of them before speaking.

"El, I have an idea." Her voice was soft but it had become so quiet in the room that it immediately seemed louder.

She saw Olivia look up at her in slight surprise and she did her best to give her a reassuring expression. She understood her struggle. Better than the detective probably knew.

"Olivia has to be at work in the morning," she continued carefully. "How about, tonight, you and I stay at our house."

She hadn't slipped up her words. To her it had never stopped being _their_ house and it would be _their_ house for the rest of her life no matter where each of them might end up living.

"All of the kids will be home," she went on, trying to sound enticing while mentally making a note to call Maureen as soon as possible to have her come home from the dorms. "We can have a movie night, like when they were little…camp out on the floor and stay up as late as we can, what do you think?"

She smiled affectionately. Olivia wanted to cry again….hell, she almost wanted to kiss her. A house full of love and warmth was exactly what he needed right now and God bless her, Kathy could give that to him. Family was better than anything she could ever give him at this moment.

There was quiet again as she finished speaking and Elliot sighed heavily, sounding exhausted. Olivia kept rubbing his back while he breathed into the couch cushion for a little while and they let him hide.

When he finally sat up, his weariness was evident everywhere inside and out. He looked at his wife in despair and then at his partner. He didn't even have to speak. Olivia heard the words on his tongue anyway and was quick to answer him.

"I'll come over right as soon as I get off," she promised. "I won't be there long tomorrow. Captain and I are going to be talking about my hours so that I'll be able to stay with you at night for awhile if you need me to." She smiled and traced over his hairline tenderly. "It'll be fine tonight, Elliot, you'll have fun with your kids. Go be with your family."

He looked torn. It was obvious how much he missed his children and wanted to be with them. It was also obvious that he was fighting with the fear that being away from his partner's protection meant being away from her permanently. He looked back at Kathy tearfully.

"It's not too far from Olivia's, baby, you know that," Kathy said desperately. "And you can call her, I'm sure she doesn't mind. You can talk to her if you need to."

"That's right," Olivia said immediately. "You can call me as many times as you want tonight and tomorrow. I'll just be one phone call away, I promise."

Elliot swallowed and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose. Then he nodded slowly, looking visibly defeated.

Kathy closed her eyes against the tears of pain for him and was startled when she opened them. He was looking at her and holding his hand out with an urgent look on his face.

She looked at him in confusion before glancing at Olivia. The other woman swallowed and smiled shakily, nodding down at her hands.

She looked down at herself and realized she had been holding his stuffed rabbit. She had forgotten all about it.

She stepped closer and held it out to him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Blowing a tired sigh through her nose, Olivia switched her travel coffee mug to her left hand so that she could pull open the door to the squad room with her right. The fringed tips of her scarf hung down almost to the floor from where she had unwound it around her neck upon stepping foot into the main entrance to the precinct downstairs and found the heat blasting full-force.

It was her third day back at work and she was arriving two hours later than normal. Elliot had slept at her apartment the night before for the first time since she had started adjusting to her new schedule. Cragen had given her permission to come in at 10 am so that she would have time to drop him off with his family before her shift.

It hadn't been as bad as she'd imagined, coming back. The resolve to get back into the detective shoes had steadily had time to build over the last week or so, but even so it hadn't been enough to keep her insides from suddenly fluttering up nervously like when she was a kid starting school for the first time that night before her first day.

It had been hard enough as it was just trying to settle down to sleep the night before that day. Despite her many assurances to Elliot and the fact that she would have never in a million years have mentioned it, being away from him was just as hard on her as it seemed to be on him. After having him _there_ for so long, it had been totally unnerving to suddenly be reminded in the middle of the night that she was alone in her apartment. Even though he had slept on the couch and there was absolutely nothing that had changed about the place, her bedroom had seemed bigger and more empty that night than it ever had before in all the time she had lived there.

She had kept getting up and going into the living room to turn on the television even though reading had always been her preferred method of getting to fall asleep and she knew there was nothing on that late anyway, just so that his couch wouldn't be empty. And what the fuck, _his_ couch? If that wasn't a sign of desperate insanity, she sure as hell didn't know what was.

She also hadn't been able to stop worrying. With every push of her finger across the channel select button, Olivia had worried as she stared blankly at the TV screen. Would he have nightmares that night, waking up and not recognizing where he was? Would one of his kids accidentally bump his arm without meaning to and put him in agony? What if it stormed again, would Kathy know what to do if he freaked out? What if he called her late that night and she didn't hear the phone because she was asleep?

She hadn't gone back to her bed and she'd had to set her alarm on her cell phone to wake herself up by the time she finally did doze off uneasily.

When she checked the phone in the morning because she was sure she had to have missed his call and found the Caller ID blank, she didn't know what to feel. She had debated calling Kathy just to see how the night had gone but had left without letting herself.

It didn't help that she'd kept having images come into her head during the drive to the station of walking in and having her colleagues looking at her like they weren't quite sure what to make of her, the detective whose partner had been kidnapped and who they had witnessed falling apart in most unprofessional manner before she had suddenly up and disappeared from contact for two months after he was found. She wouldn't have been surprised if they avoided her locker and desk like the plague and approached her with the caution of someone just back from war.

So to say it was a relief to step through the doors that first morning and have no one even look up was putting it mildly. Eventually, some of them did acknowledge her as she walked across the floor toward Cragen's office, but none went further than the courteous head nod of recognition before concentrating back on their work. It was pretty much the friendliest greeting a New York cop gave any coworker and it set her heart back into its normal calm rhythm quickly. She had been pleased to find that getting back into the swing of things wasn't nearly as difficult as she had thought it would be.

_Well…hold on a minute, now. Be fair here, Benson. _Olivia scowled at the self-righteous train of thought that had managed to butt in and bring her out of her musing. _Shut up, damn it. I'm __**trying**__ to think positively here. _

She sighed and shook her head. Okay, so truth be told…she _wasn't _technically back in the swing of things. Yes, she had been officially "back" on duty since three days ago, but she hadn't picked things up with the speed she was used to working with the unit. She'd met with Cragen on the first day to talk about how they were going to handle having her return.

Six months ago, she was first in line for overtime, for stakeouts, for anything and everything that made it possible to pass time so that she wasn't at home alone because her social life was pathetic and she was too obsessed with working to see that the _last_ thing that was good for her state of mind was more of it.

That day, she hadn't even blinked as she told her boss that she was only going to work a 9-5 shift and that she didn't care if it meant she would be paid less, have her grade level affected or have to push paper a instead of do field assignments.

She had different priorities now. Being available for the most important person in her life every day was one of them.

In all honesty, she had been nervous after telling Cragen this. There really was no reason for him to go through such liberties for her, one second-grade detective. She could be replaced in one day. If she wasn't willing to give everything, she could find another job.

He'd told her he would arrange it. He'd told her it would be worked out and hadn't hesitated. She hadn't thought it was possible for her to respect the man any more after all of this, but at that moment he had proceeded to render her speechless with astonishment.

So far, coming back to work was turning out to be not so bad. Maybe….maybe…things were finally starting to become re-assembled, easier to navigate amidst the uncertainty.

Not ten seconds after she walked into the squad room, Cragen was walking over with a determined look on his face. She couldn't help being startled…it was like he had been looking out of his office _watching_ for her. She hadn't even made it halfway to her desk yet.

"Olivia," he said, stopping before her. "Got a minute?" He nodded toward his office with a questioning expression. She couldn't help the thought that crossed her mind. Before, there would have been no inquisitiveness, no pause, because he was the Captain and she was the Detective and there was no_ asking_, there was just obeying.

Now he had visited inside her home. He had sat with her and listened to her partner describe being raped. He had watched her hysterically insisting that someone had kidnapped Elliot from a courthouse while she'd turned her back for two minutes instead of using her ten years of law enforcement training to think logically about the possibilities.

Even though she had been back for three days, she wasn't quite sure what her role was anymore.

She nodded and he turned, walking back toward his open office doorway. She followed silently and tried not to notice the other detectives who still wouldn't stop gaping each time she stepped foot in the room like they somehow disapproved of her being there.

"Have a seat," he offered, pausing to let her pass and then closing the door softly.

Olivia eyed the chairs warily and glanced at the captain but didn't say anything. She just sat without comment.

It was easy to identify the expression of slight surprise on Cragen's face as he sat down before he let his expression neutralize. She realized then that he had honestly been expecting an argument from her.

It made her start a little. Was that how they thought of her now, a loose cannon? Had her protectiveness of Elliot come across as defiance all this time? She swallowed, the thought making her mind blank.

She dug her fingernails into the legs of her slacks as she watched Cragen lower himself down into the chair behind his desk. She could already see his carefully controlled expression.

Dear God. She had to clench her teeth and remind herself to inhale patiently through her nose before her instincts could flare. Dear _God…_

If that man was about to ask how she was doing _one more time_ she was going to detonate. She swore she was.

He had asked her on her first day back. He had asked her on her second day back. He had called and asked her the night after her second day back. He had called and asked her that morning before she had come in for her third day back.

She blew out a breath and tried to calm herself. She respected her boss and she appreciated his concern, she really did…she knew he was just looking out for her and that he genuinely cared for her, just like he did for all of the detectives under his command. That's just the way Don Cragen was. She knew that, she had _always_ known that.

But God….she was just _so tired_ of being asked that question. It seemed like everyone and their brother had decided to start asking her that after it became apparent that the whole ordeal in Buffalo was finally behind them.

Every time she heard it, she wanted to lash out, to scream. What was _wrong _with all these people? They shouldn't be asking if _she _was alright, if _she _needed anything. Elliot had been the brave one through all this, not her, for God's sake. They should be asking about _him_, he deserved every moment of their attention. Why couldn't they see that?

The captain spoke in the middle of her heated inner thoughts and his manner was effective in making her focus. He just said the words matter-of-factly.

"Liv, I'm not sure how long you plan to stay today," he said, looking at her steadfastly. His gentle expression was so…so _him_, one she had always remembered him using when he spoke to everyone as their boss. "But before you leave, I need you to move your stuff back to your old desk. There's a transfer coming in from Bronx SVU in the morning and I want to partner him with you."

She couldn't have hid the shock from her face if she had wanted to. This was not at all what she had been expecting to hear. Cragen waited a minute hesitantly and when she didn't say anything, he kept speaking.

"His name's Doug Mullis," he went on. "Been in SVU about eight years." He was attempting to sound light and encouraging. "Retired military, married…real nice guy, Olivia. Great detective."

She was still just staring at him. He finally had to furrow his brow in discomfort, but he really wasn't surprised. He had been prepared for this day and still was.

This was still Olivia Benson and she was still a great detective herself. He would never make a move that might effect her ability to do her job negatively…he just hoped she knew that. Trusted that.

Trusted him.

"Nothing's permanent," he continued, attempting to sound soothing. "We'll just try it out for a while…it's not a big deal if it can't work out. Just give it a chance and if it doesn't work, Fin and Munch already agreed that if you want to swap for one of them instead you can."

There were a million things swirling in her head but she couldn't get anything pinned down concretely enough yet to address it. This was definitely going to take some thinking and she knew that it couldn't get done here.

She realized that Cragen was watching her, cataloging her reactions. She quickly shook herself and focused.

"Alright," she said.

One word, one short nod. No promises. No commitments. She had to think. He had to give her time to think and she tried to convey that without actually saying it, not sure why she didn't want to.

He couldn't help but look slightly startled, but she gave him points for his decorum. It looked like he really wanted to blurt out _"Seriously?" _but just settled for nodding too.

The situation had been settled for the moment and the atmosphere immediately reflected it. Olivia automatically began thinking ahead to when she was going to leave the precinct; Kathy had to stay at work a little later that night and they had planned for her to have Elliot and the kids come to her apartment for dinner. She needed to ask-

"Olivia."

The captain brought her attention back with a start and she felt herself flush slightly. It had seemed like they were done, maybe she had zoned out too quickly.

He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Elliot's desk needs to be cleared off so either you or Mullis can use it," he said. He sucked in his lip hesitantly and when he spoke again, his voice was even gentler. "I was going to wait to see how you felt before we did anything."

She could feel tears climbing and clenched her teeth fast. Crying was _not_ an option for her now. Still, she had to squint carefully to keep her eyes from betraying her and leaking.

"…Nothing has been touched, I made sure of that," he kept saying. "Everything is how he left it; I just have to box it up because we have to use the desk. No one is going to touch it; I'll be keeping for him for him to decide what to do with it when he wants."

She had to concentrate on breathing. Just breathing.

"Munch and I are more than happy to take care of it," he went on. "Don't feel like you have to do it…if you want to just move your things that's fine, we can-"

Her world came crashing back into focus. She spoke so fast that she knew it was pure instinct, because she hadn't yet comprehended what she was doing.

She just knew she had to.

"No," Olivia cut in, shortly. She shook her head quickly. "No, I'll do it. I'll take care of it. It's fine." She sucked in her lip, swallowing. "Please let me do it."

Cragen nodded sympathetically and indicated that he had nothing else. She got up shakily.

The general bustle of phones ringing and officers steadily walking in and out of the squad room helped her feelings of suffocation as she left the captain's office. Out of habit, she looked toward Munch and Fin's desk to see neither man was there at the moment.

Gathering her composure, Olivia walked steadily over to the desk by the staircase that she had been temporarily been using when she had last been on duty. She hadn't really been thinking about it when she had abruptly gone over to it at the time; she had just gathered up the pens and files that were in closest reach and dumped them across the room. The only thing that had been on her mind then had been the stab of agony every time she had looked at her partner's empty desk and making her die inside because he was missing and she just wanted more than anything to see that he was okay.

So it took no time to retrieve the little amount of things she had accumulated at the other desk and bring them back to hers. It was all mostly paperwork; none of the essentials on her desk had been touched at all. Her pictures were still there as always, her computer shut down, her desk lamp cold and dark.

She was crouching on her haunches, shoving the last of the files into the bottom drawer, when her cell phone jangled on her waist. Surprised, she reached for it and instinctively checked the screen to see the number

There was no number. Just words.

_Elliot home_

Her breath caught for a second but her hand was already flipping it open. Her brain fervently sent pleas to God for no emergency to come from the other end as she lifted it to her mouth.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

She recognized his voice instantly before he even finished the word, soft and like he was breathing into the receiver, and was surprised. She had been expecting it to be Kathy. The instinctual pumping of adrenaline was still throbbing through her veins from when she had seen who was calling and thought of what could possibly have happened. It took a few moments to recede, leaving her forced to swallow several times.

Once her breathing was normal again, it dawned on her abruptly that he hadn't continued to speak. It was just silence on the other end, the sound of his breathing.

Her brow furrowed immediately.

"Elliot?" she inquired carefully.

"Yeah?"

His reply was instantaneous and alert and…._hopeful? _Her face began to scrunch but she couldn't help it. She was honestly getting confused.

Her partner sounded…conversational. Like he was calling wanting a friendly chat when she knew full well that for the past eight weeks he hadn't gone near the phone one time. He hadn't touched it, hadn't answered it, wouldn't even _consider_ it unless she was handing it to him because one of his kids was on the other end.

It was obvious how apprehensive the thought made him and he had been lousy at trying to hide it, but he had done his best to try anyway the whole time. And of course she noticed, could see the visible effect it had on him every time her phone rang and he would look at the thing like it might turn into a grenade at any moment.

She wasn't sure exactly what it might have been caused by, what it meant or what emotions it triggered in him. She hadn't asked and he had never volunteered anything approaching the subject. Quite frankly, if he didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't have minded never knowing.

Even though the evidence of just how violently those bastards had destroyed him was in every move he made now, there was nothing in this world that would have made her want to know if there was something else she hadn't yet discovered.

"Is….everything okay?" she asked lightly, deciding to take her cues from him and attempt to speak as normally as possible to see what happened.

Good thing he couldn't see her hands gripping the end of her desk with white-knuckled strength.

"Uh-huh," he answered obediently, like a child prompted to speak. A moment of silence stretched out where she still felt like something was off and couldn't speak, and he seemed to be just listening to her breathing. Then he spoke again abruptly to catch her off guard once more. "Are you going to come home soon?"

This time there was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice and then the whole thing suddenly snapped into place, making her feel torn between wanting to cry with sympathy and wanting to tell him that she didn't think she had ever felt as much love for him as she did right at that moment.

He was doing his best to make her think he was just curious and probably didn't even realize that his entire demeanor indicated how he was trying so hard to be brave in the midst of a sudden, terrible homesickness that screamed _Please come back now, I don't like it when you're not with me too. _

"_Are you going to come home soon?" _

Tender warmth spread from her heart all the way around and down to her toes.

_Home_ had always been his sacred place. From the moment she'd met him, she'd been made aware immediately that _home_ was the one place that the darkness of the world wouldn't touch him. It was his family, the people in the world that he didn't hide from behind the cop's mask and loved with a fierceness greater than any force nature could challenge with. It was his comfort, his reprieve. His salvation.

And now he had suddenly mixed her in there too, without warning.

Her smile tried to break her face as affectionate mist dampened her eyes slightly.

_Oh, Elliot. I'm so glad you're in my life. __**God**__, I love you. _

Unable to keep from chuckling warmly, Olivia straightened to full height. "Very soon," she promised gently. She absentmindedly shuffled a few files together more neatly, but her mind was completely wrapped around the other end of the phone. "I'm almost ready to leave…I've just got to finish up one thing and then I'm out of here. Twenty minutes, maybe less. Promise."

If smiles were audible, his would have roared in her ear. She didn't even have to see it. Just the miniscule shift in his breathing told more than any expression ever could about how his words made him feel.

"Okay." She had to stifle a giggle at his voice then; he sounded like he wanted to cheer. "Okay, I'll-I'll let you go then." His words were a rush now, tinged with excitement and relief.

She smiled. "Okay," she said. "I'll see you in a little bit. Bye."

She flipped the screen back. For a moment she stood still, staring at the screen, and laughed affectionately. Shaking her head with amusement, she stooped again to retrieve the small cardboard box that she had just noticed had been placed under her desk. She wondered for a moment how long it had been there, how long the captain had been contemplating what to do about his desk.

She took a deep breath and this time, when she looked back across the two desks, she finally felt no pain. After what had seemed like an eternity, the clutter she saw littering the desktop once she came around to his side made her insides fill with happiness instead of the familiar old sorrow. With each item that disappeared gently into the box she was reminded of what she had to look forward to with her best friend.

She worked steadily and made quick headway with his files, pens, office supplies and work necessities going into the box automatically. She hesitated a moment over the first of his photo frames she reached for before adding it as well, deciding as she began to clear through each one that she would take everything with her. She thought he might enjoy having his pictures back right now. He would never have to know that she had the rest of his desk essentially in her hands until he was ready.

The desk now clear, Olivia wiped a small gathering of dust onto the floor and adjusted his phone base to be a little straighter. Satisfied, she looked across to her own desk one last time before reaching into her pocket for her keys.

Later, when she thinks back on it, she never knew what compelled her to slide open Elliot's desk drawer.

There was a bomb in there; a bomb in the form of one small white piece of cardstock, barely 2"x 3". It lay casually, perched atop several pencils and the absurdly large pink eraser that she had always teased him mercifully about having in his possession, situated haphazardly as if put there in a careless haste with words on it that she recognized immediately.

**Michael Ethan Jones, Esq.**

_**Criminal Defense Attorney**_

__**Devaun Associates, PC**

"**We Fight To Win, You Cash It In!"**

**(231) 884-5667 office/ (231) 884-5301 fax**

"Son of a bitch," she hissed, inhaling sharply. She instinctively took a step back, her heart in her throat. "Goddamn fucking _son of a bitch_!"

Fury, rage, and blinding disbelief radiated from her body in time with her pounding heart and fuzzy vision. Her head whipped around and she immediately scanned every inch, every corner of the office around her with one hand frozen automatically above her hip where her gun normally would have been resting, but the whole time her body was ice.

She eyed every person in her sight, burning holes into them as they sat behind desks, walked through the room. Some of them noticed and looked back at her warily but she just scowled menacingly as her eyes continued roaming over everything she could see.

She recognized them all, knew everyone. Dedicated colleagues, a few friends in there, but no one she didn't trust. Nothing out of place, no one requiring even a moment of consideration of being a threat.

_It's nothing, _her mind told her, rationality struggling to break through her panicked haze. _They're in prison, it's nothing. They just want to screw with us, you know it's what they do. They've been screwing with us since this whole thing even started. _

She realized she was gripping the back of Elliot's chair hard enough to imbed the skin of her knuckles into the soft fabric and unclenches her fingers slowly. She willed her heart to a calmer, steadier rate and forced herself down into the seat with deliberate care.

Her hand didn't even shake as she leaned forward to retrieve the business card.

Olivia stared at it for a long time, brown eyes taking in the elegant professional copy. There is dark print showing through the back and she turned it over, staring at the handwriting written in sure, precise strokes.

_Elliot-Thank you for your gracious entertainment. I deeply regret not getting to meet with you face to face this time, but do look forward to a visit soon. We enjoyed your company. See you at our next reunion- E.J._

"Son of a bitch," she hissed again, her fingers crumbling around the card savagely.

Apart from the janitorial staff, Cragen, and herself, she knew that nobody had been near his desk since the day he was taken for a long ride to a very dark place. No one would have opened the drawer, noticed the card or anyone who may have put it there. She had no doubt that Ethan Jones would be able to stir up hurricanes anywhere he was. After all that he had done to fuck with them during this nightmare, she didn't doubt it for one second.

He could have paid off any number of people to get inside this building, it was almost frighteningly simple when she thought about it. Delivery man, janitor, courier…it probably took three seconds to slip into some FedEx jumpsuit and gain access to an elevator. This card might have been sitting in here for eight weeks, since the exact day this started, or it very well could have been put here recently. Hell, for all she knew that bastard could have passed it off to some scumbag guard from the Buffalo city jail to hand deliver it after his sentencing four days ago.

It didn't matter. Eight years could go by before that drawer was opened and all that counted would be that moment when the card would be picked up. Ethan Jones would once again have all of his fucking control back and would be able to get off on it because he knew it would happen. He planned on it.

Olivia took a pained breath. She could just see it- Elliot coming back to work, opening the desk drawer. Discovering the business card. A frown of curiosity would form on his face as he puzzled at the unfamiliar item and then reached for it.

He might flip it over as he took it out or read the handwriting first, but either way the damage would have been done and all of the little steps that they had both taken towards healing would have completely combusted.

She glanced out toward the overcast sky.

_Or taken a flying leap out the window. _

Her teeth were clenching again, so before she had a minute to think any further she was up and striding determinedly toward the desks a little ways away from the squad room doors.

She pushed back the chair to Ronny Benardo's desk and glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention before sliding open the top drawer. After carefully poking through the junk inside without disturbing anything she pushed the drawer back in and went to the second one.

It took her until the very bottom drawer to find what she was looking for. Olivia quickly moved aside the carton of cigarettes that the man had hidden there because his wife would kill him if she knew he had taken up smoking and closed her fingers around a cheap Bic lighter.

She slid the drawer back, slipped the purple plastic into her pocket along with the business card, and headed deftly out the doors.

The air on the roof seems twenty degrees chillier than what she had felt walking into the building and she could see her breath as she stepped outside from the stairwell. Cupping her hands together, she blew warm air into them and rubbed them briskly as she slowly makes her way across the asphalt.

She kept her distance from the ledge, getting close would make her dizzy, and instead focused on the bleak chalk-gray apartments across the street at her eye level. The sky was beginning to dusk and she knew that soon the streetlights would be coming on.

Blowing out a deep breath, she pulled the business card out and rubbed it between her fingers.

She thought of that night in the hospital when she had heard Elliot cry in his sleep for the first time. She thought of blood on his blanket and sliced flesh on his arm.

She thought of debilitating nightmares that made his screaming sound like the brinks of death. She thought of his long form stretched out on her couch, face soft with vulnerable slumber and fingers curled loosely around one ear of a giant plush rabbit.

She thought of the phone call she had gotten five minutes ago, the sound of expectancy and excited impatience of wanting to see her. She thought of the way his face lit up when she walked into the Stabler's house and how he hurried to her as if welcoming her from across the world.

She thought of that night and how she would ask Kathy if she minded picking up some ice cream on the way to her apartment after leaving work. It was forty degrees outside but she could still see the expression of delight on her best friend's face when she would surprise them by mentioning it over dinner.

She thought of Elliot.

Sweet-smiling, rabbit hugging, unpredictable laughing, completely changed forever, beautiful, broken Elliot.

She rubbed the business card between her fingers again.

_See you at out next reunion._

"No," Olivia said darkly. "Not if I see you first."

She fished out the Bic and flicked the sparking wheel with her thumb. It sparks after two attempts, a yellow flame leaping up. She touched it to one end of the sturdy cardstock. It caught immediately and she watched the paper curling, blackening as the char lines spreads higher.

She set the burning card on the ground by her feet. In a moment it is reduced to feathery black ashes that are swept away by the strengthening wind.

**The End**


	66. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.**

**This story officially "ended" at the last chapter, so if you don't want to read this please don't feel you have to. It is not tied into the last chapter. This epilogue is comprised of a series of small snapshots telling a story about lives continuing after a traumatic event. Sometimes, recovery isn't about forgetting; sometimes for victims and those around them, recovery is about having to adjust to accommodate changes that they may never be able to fix.**

**Some content here may be offensive, so please read at your own risk. Clear concepts concerning the passage of time for each of these has been left intentionally vague and none of these individual shots are connected to another. Feel free to interpret how much time has elapsed between each of these however you wish.**

**Epilogue**

"Benson." The captain calls their names from across the room. "Monroe."

Jim scoots his chair around immediately as the man walks purposefully towards their desks with a file. He shoots a glance at his partner before Cragen stops beside him and sees she is on the phone, so he tips his head up attentively.

"Yes, sir?" he replies.

Cragen extends an arm to place the file beside his elbow. "I want the two of you on this."

Jim begins to examine the criminal log and face sheet as Cragen continues. "Guy was arrested yesterday afternoon after police caught him trying to break into an apartment on the Lower East Side and record checks turned up 13 documented complaints since June of 2005 for attempted sexual voyeurism."

He sees the captain glance over at the other desk for a minute before he keeps addressing him. "I want you guys to get familiar with the police reports and then go track down each of these people to get an account of the details behind the complaints," he says. "Then I want you down at the 7th precinct talking to the officers who made the arrest- this may end up coming to us depending on how serious the guy's behavior is."

He nods quickly when the captain finishes speaking on a dismissive note. "Yes, sir," he repeats, but Cragen barely takes the moment to nod his acknowledgement. He is already moving on towards another set of detectives.

He doesn't even have to think anymore as he flips right to the reports and begins to read and he is grateful for even that small bit of relief. When he'd gotten here, he had discovered that the 1-6 had a different filing system than Queens SVU It was completely backwards and upside down than he was used to and it had taken him three days to get the pattern of order firmly down.

He cannot help letting out a low whistle of disbelief when he starts on the second report. He is not so much of a rookie anymore that he is still surprised by acts of sexual deviance, but a lot of times, coming across something particularly revolting reminds him that he is no where near a veteran yet, either.

"Wow," he spits out finally, unable to help himself. He lifts his head to look over at his partner; he has to get her to read this. It is just _too_ unbelievable. "Hey, you've got to take a-"

He realizes she is still on the phone when his voice booms into hers speaking. He cringes apologetically and ducks his head, but realizes after a second that she isn't even looking at him.

"I know you do, sweetheart-"

He was drawn in by her voice, though, and couldn't help looking up again. She was speaking with quiet tenderness and badly-concealed anguish.

It isn't his intention to eavesdrop; he had never felt comfortable doing that anyway, but he can't help listening, if only for the selfish reason of maybe being able to finally figure something out about the damn woman. He's been there for three weeks now and his partner still acts like they are total strangers. She never speaks to him when they're working at the desk, and always seems to be absent when they are needed in the field so that he has to hunt the damn building for her. All he really knows about the woman is her Goddamned name.

It's pissing him off, to be honest. He's been trying to keep an open mind, but for God's sake, there's only so much of the cold shoulder a guy could take. He doesn't give two shits about if she likes him personally- it isn't like he has to hang out with her outside of work or anything- but you can't work with somebody without at least _talking_ to them. Benson's had a stick up her ass since day one and he is sick of trying to figure out what the hell her deal is.

He'd heard a rumor not too long after getting settled in that he was the fourth partner to be paired up with Olivia Benson in two months. Apparently, she had acted this way towards every other partner they'd given her as well. That should have told him something…maybe he should have had the sense to look into an opening in Brooklyn like Annie kept saying he should.

Olivia's eyes meet his when she feels him looking. They quickly turn dark with anger and indignation and she glares as if challenging him to keep listening.

He shakes his head and returns his concentration to what he is supposed to be doing.

_Bitch,_ he thinks irritably. _Don't flatter yourself. I don't give two fucks about what you've got to say to whatever ding-bat is miserable enough to want to date you. _

He ignores it when she sighs, fully caught up in his reading now and not really even paying attention to her anymore.

"Elliot, I can't come home right now, honey…"

Her voice had become so gentle, so tender unexpectedly, and the genuine heartache behind the words strikes a familiar chord that draws his attention almost instantly again. The expression of anguish on her face makes guilt start to drop into his stomach and he begins to feel bad for his earlier thoughts.

He'd never been given any kind of indication that she might have had any children, but he knew that tone. It breaks his heart the nights that he has to go to work and can't tuck Sydney in. She always makes that sad little puppy face that makes him feel like the biggest failure as a father and he always has to use that same tone of voice.

He finds himself watching her again, although he is smart enough to just settle for quick glances so she won't burn him with another glare.

_Damn you and your stupid sympathy complex, Monroe_, he thinks sourly to himself. _She's been nothing but ice to you since you met, she doesn't deserve your understanding._

"I know," she is carrying on gently. Her lips purse and he watches her twist the phone cord in her fingers a little. "I wish I could too, baby. It's just a few more hours, though. I promise I'll be back in just a few more hours."

He can see tenderness on her face. It's completely different than the way she normally looks.

"How about you go back and watch the movie with them now, okay? I promise I'll see you in just a little while." She smiles in tender amusement. "Okay, sweetie. Bye. "

She drops the phone into the cradle and his head snaps back down quickly toward the file. Silence resumes between the desks. Jim fights with the instinct to just shut the hell up and leave it alone. But the hope of wanting to connect with her won't go away. As a parent himself, he is always in the mood to talk about his daughter. Maybe this is finally the icebreaker they've needed.

He keeps glancing at her surreptitiously, her expression somber and pained as she writes on a report. He lets himself keep looking until finally she looks up.

"What?" she asks snippily.

"You got kids?" he asks with a friendly, knowing curl of his lips.

The warm smile he is expecting to see never came. Her face seems to get even stonier until it is practically a mask and surprises the hell out of him.

"No," she says shortly.

The fire in her eyes is hot enough to melt the shirt off of him. She gets up without another word and walks away from the desk.

Monroe's face twists with reproach and he scows. He grips the file harder in his fingers, finding his place again, but his face has become cold too.

Screw this. He's going to talk to Cragen before he leaves today. Let Benson make someone else miserable if that's what she wants so badly, he is sick of dealing with it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

His sharp eyes pick through the crowded tables until he finds the one he is looking for. There has been a transfer from the East wing this morning and this one had caught his eye the moment he had seen him.

He nods to his Jewish, Nazi-hating cellmate Roy just the once, a calculated, cool move that barely requires any movement of his head. The other man already knows what he is to do; there is no need for show. Only the nervous and inexperienced put on shows because they have not yet come to learn that nothing can ever be accomplished when you are the center of attention.

He leans against the wall and just watches with only a flickering of interest. He does not desire to see Roy scurrying to do his bidding, like an overeager puppy wanting to please his master. But he isn't bothered. Roy is still new; he is still acting out of self-preservation. It will not take long for that to change.

Right now Roy takes it willingly, _offers _it even, because he truly believes in that warped-up little mind of his that letting his cellmate fuck him in the ass without complaint means that they will have made a bond. But Roy will come to realize that is not about sex. It is never about sex.

Roy will come to realize that. Roy will one day realize that and that is when he will begin to fight. That is when he will not be so _willing _anymore; he will fight and he will struggle and he will yell because he _isn't going to let him do this anymore_. That will be the day when he will be forced to make his choice, to fight or submit. It is a lesson, everyone has to be taught this lesson.

And Ethan Jones is all about the teaching.

He continues to watch Roy make his way over to the table where the man sits skittishly, still so obviously new to prison life that he can't even eat because he does not know how to do it and watch out for what is around him. He watches Roy lean down to speak in the man's ear, sees the man's jump of surprise and startled eyes at not expecting the intrusion.

The smile spreads on his face like warm honey; he cannot help it. This one is just _too _perfect…for God's sake, this one probably hasn't even been in a week. How is it that nobody has claimed him already?

Ethan doesn't bother with pointless questions. It really doesn't matter how or why, all that matters is that he will make sure that no longer is true anymore. This one has been chosen.

Roy flicks his head toward where he is standing and the man follows his gaze nervously. Ethan doesn't blink or move, doesn't bother with acknowledgement. Just the fact that he is staring back tells the man more than anything else ever could.

The man swallows with dread and the fear on his face increases exponentially as Roy steps back, but nods obediently. He stands to his feet without a word and doesn't even bother to finish his lunch. He begins to follow Roy out toward where they will meet.

Ethan remains where he stands and scowls after them. The man hadn't even _protested_; Christ, he'll probably end up being just like Roy. Eager and willing and too fucking nervous about doing everything exactly how he says. His face twists with disgust as he contemplates. There has to be _someone_ in this Goddamned place that knows how to act like a man. Maybe he should let this one go and look for the kind he really wants. He wants a _man_, a struggling, cursing, resisting man; he doesn't want a fucking _girl_.

His dick has other ideas, however, as it throbs to remind him of how horny he is at the moment, and he decides that he will go through with this one anyway. His thoughts brighten as he begins to make his way back toward where they are waiting for him at his cell. Even if this guy _is _a blubbering lemming who will let him do what he wants, there is no way he will actually enjoy it.

A smile curves his lips again.

Maybe he won't get the struggle that he wants, but at least he will get to hear the scream.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She is surprised when she opens the door and sees the waiting room. It is more crowded than she had thought it would be at eleven in the morning.

She feels him hesitate behind her when she does, so she quickly continues forward through the doorway and he follows.

She is looking around for some chairs to sit in and spies empty ones beside a table littered with magazines. She begins to step toward them while he goes to the receptionist's window to check in but he catches her arm to halt her progress, making her stumble slightly. The move shocks her and she begins to look at him in astonishment.

And then she realizes that his hand, while wrapped tightly around her forearm, is not gripping even a little bit. He is not trying to hurt her at all. And when her eyes travel from her arm to his face, the expression there makes her stomach feel queasy.

She has seen him afraid before. She had seen it a few times during her childhood and has certainly seen it too many times over the last months for her peace of mind. The expression bothers her, but it is not what is making her feel the way she is at this moment.

No, what is making her heart thud and her palms sweat with anxiety is not the fear. It is the _dependency_ she sees that gets to her. His eyes are expressing that he needs someone by his side because he is afraid and he doesn't care that at the moment that someone just happens to be his own child.

Maureen has never in her entire life seen him look _to_ her when he is afraid and it scares her.

This has never happened before. Actually, the whole _situation _has never happened before, when she thinks about it. She visits her dad plenty of times at his apartment, more than she ever has before (which makes her feel guilty when she dwells on it, and she tries to keep the past in the past), but because of her schedule this semester she always seems to be there when someone else is too.

Usually it is Olivia, who is there every day without fail during her lunch break, and sometimes brings Munch or Fin along with her. Very rarely it is her mom, because she usually skips leaving the office to see him during lunch so that she can get off earlier and go see him after work. On weekends, her whole family plus Olivia is there and they usually do something together.

But being with him by herself has been pretty much nonexistent this semester and so she hadn't been able to help the feeling of anxiousness when she had received the phone call from her mom that morning before her first class.

Usually, her mom took off on days her dad had doctor's appointments so that she could go with him- she had never really given much thought into it; she had always just assumed her mom was doing it because she cared and as far as she knew, her dad had never not welcomed it. But this morning, apparently, she had a property showing that she couldn't get out of, she hadn't been able to get hold of Olivia at work, and someone needed to go with him to his appointment. Maureen knew there was no way her mom would have asked Kat to miss school to do it, not now, and she was almost tempted to ask why her dad couldn't go by himself.

But she didn't venture there because deep down she knew it was important. Her mother would never be calling for something like this if it wasn't important.

A small blonde-haired woman smiles as they step up and slides the glass window open. "May I help you?"

Her father doesn't make eye contact; he rarely does anymore. She casually drops her arm from the light hold he still has on it and quickly brings her left hand over to grasp his right one.

He squeezes it gratefully.

"Um, yeah," he said, looking directly at the woman now. "Elliot Stabler, here to see Dr. Murden."

The woman checks the appointment book and then asks for his insurance card so she can make a copy. Maureen gets ready to let go of his hand but he squeezes it firmly so she won't. He fumbles with his other hand around his jeans pocket and pulls out the small card.

They wait silently while the woman steps over to a Xerox machine to make a copy. She glances around for a minute and then realizes suddenly that he is looking pensively at something above them. Intrigued, she tilts her head and follows his gaze until she sees what it is. He is staring at the sign above the window.

**We ask that you please inform us of any changes in your address or insurance information.**

Something twists in her stomach again.

Her dad had been frequently staying with them at the house sometimes when Olivia had first gone back to work. She had assumed that it was because of his still-healing mobility, but then even after his physical limitations had started getting better he hadn't gone back to his apartment. Not one time, not even to get anything.

She knew this because she had seen her mom pull into the driveway one day with a bunch of stuff in the backseat that she recognized as having been in her dad's place. Her mom hadn't known anyone was home and by the look on her face, she didn't seem like she would have appreciated knowing Maureen was watching. So she'd just ducked back out of the window and hadn't said anything.

No one else mentioned anything about it either and things resumed the way they had been, with her father alternating a few nights a week staying there and staying with Olivia. And then suddenly about two weeks ago, their mom told them that he was moving to a new apartment and that was all that was said on the subject.

"You can have a seat, Mr. Stabler," the woman says as she hands the card back to him. "Is there anything else?"

Maureen watches him close his eyes.

"Yes," he says softly, swallowing. "I-I've moved."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He walks to the other side of the trailer and helps Greg open the doors as the rig lets out a groan of exhaust upon coming to a complete stop. He groans inwardly at the sight of all of the boxes they will have to unload this time even as he mechanically climbs up inside the trailer without hesitation to begin.

The two men work silently, hauling boxes out to the ground to be taken inside the building when they are through. He doesn't really like this guy Greg he works with every other day and quite honestly doesn't care if he feels the same way. He'd just as well get the work done and go home as soon as possible; the less time he has to spend in this place, the better. Especially since spring was still far away and it was cold as shit out here in this garage.

Stocking shipment in a furniture wholesale store wasn't what he had in mind when he went looking for work to begin with, but it wasn't like he had many other options. The asshole judge who was overseeing his case had given him a month to find employment as a condition of his suspended sentence, so he'd had to take what he could get.

He tried to cheer himself up every day by reminding himself that he needed the weekly paycheck, even the hours here were shit, and that as soon as he was off Probation he could find a way better job that he actually liked.

Ducking his head as beads of sweat begin to roll off, he grunts in effort as he lifts another box toward the rear of the truck.

"Madison!"

He looks up as he deposits the box on the ground beside the others and sees his boss leaning out of the open back door of the store they had come out of. The older man jerks his head curtly.

"Some cop wants to talk to you," he informs him shortly and then disappears back inside before his sentence is barely finished.

Jesse rolls his eyes as he catches his breath, arms still trembling slightly from the strain of the lifting. He had made sure that his boss knew about his probation when he was hired and that every so often his probation officer might stop by to check on him. The officer hadn't stopped by very many times so far and every time he does Mr. Dunham thinks he is a cop. Even when the officer specifically tells him that he is from Probation, his boss always comes out and tells him to go talk to "some cop."

_Such a dumb ass_, he thinks as he walks back inside the building, blowing on his hands to warm them a little.

He walks past the break room out toward the main store entrance and looks around for his PO, but after a minute of scanning realizes he doesn't see the man. Puzzled, he turns to go back around when a woman is suddenly in front of him to block his path.

"Are you Jesse Madison?"

She says it like she already knows the answer and is just being facetious. He tilts his chin up cautiously, not sure how this woman may know him. He tilts his chin up challengingly and opens his mouth to say so.

Then she brushes her hand over her hip and he notices the gun sitting in a holster there. Her eyes are glinting ever so slightly when as he continues over to take in the badge on the waistband of her slacks.

He cannot help his lips curling in disgust as his automatic reaction is to think that of course this time Mr. Dunham would be right and there actually_ would_ be a cop here to see him. Christ.

He sets his face into a defensive scowl before the woman has a chance to open her mouth again.

"Hey, I haven't done anything," he says angrily. "I'm here, I'm doing my job like I'm god damned supposed to be. Don't be telling my PO I'm not cooperating, shit…he's probably trying to screw with me, freak me out, right?"

He doesn't mean to begin the nervous rambling and he curses himself for it. But he can't help it. He doesn't like being on Probation, but he sure as hell doesn't want to be locked up. Just the thought scares the shit out of him.

The brown-haired woman just looks at him with unmoving brown eyes until he finishes speaking. Then she lifts an eyebrow.

"You and I need to talk," she continues coolly. She looks around for a moment, taking in the atmosphere with a flickering of eyes. "Privately."

He wonders why it had taken him until now to notice the fact that she wasn't wearing a typical cop's uniform.

The woman is just staring at him, like she is dissecting him. It is starting to make him squirm. He considers answering verbally but just nods with as much of a chin tilt as he dares. He's sure there isn't much he can do to redeem himself after that embarrassing almost panic at seeing her, but he's sure as hell not going to let her see any more nervousness from him.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbles. "We can use the break room. No one will bother us."

She says nothing as she follows him, shouldering the bag she is carrying more securely. He feels the stares from the cashiers burning into them as they walk past the registers and resolutely ignores them.

She gestures to the small table beside the counter where the microwave sits. It is only when she sits down across from him that he gathers his nerve again.

"So what is this about?" he asks again. "Seriously, did my PO send you? Because I'm telling you…I swear I've-"

"No one sent me," she interrupts him smoothly. She pauses for a moment when he goes silent and then folds her arms down onto the table, staring him squarely in the face with a stern expression. "I'm Detective Olivia Benson, Manhattan Special Victims Unit."

And then she waited silently like she was expecting him to recognize her. He finally had to raise both eyebrows when it became apparent that she wasn't getting the hint that he had no earthly clue who she was.

Her face seemed much harder up close than it had when he had first seen her. She continued to stare at him for a few more moments before slowly reaching for the bag beside her and lifting it to the table.

"I'm not here to talk about your probation," she tells him. "Or anything else like that." Her words are becoming quieter. "I just want to talk to you."

His face is confused and he knows it. "Why?" he asks. He is becoming nervous again. "What did I do?"

She pulls her hand out of her bag and places a handful of white papers onto the table between them. Her eyes are almost black now; her expression stony. Without a word, she begins to turn the papers over one by one and he realizes that they are not paper at all.

They are photographs.

Each one depicts a dark-haired man in various stages of focus. Some show him smiling cheerily, blue eyes bright and alive; others catch candid moments that make it obvious he is not aware of being the center of the camera flash.

Jesse looks back up at her and is startled to see one of her fists is clenched tightly on the table, her expression making it seem that she is about to bust open one of her knuckles. Or one of his teeth. But when she speaks, her voice is so smooth and even that she may as well have been praising him.

"You know who this is?" she asks.

He swallows, looks back down at the pictures, and then back to her. He shakes his head wordlessly with a strange feeling growing in his stomach.

Her face softens as she fingers one of the photos gently. "This is my best friend," she says affectionately down toward the table, as if talking directly to the image itself. He is startled when he sees a small smile lift her lips. "The most amazing, wonderful person to walk on this earth."

As quickly as her voice had changed, her face becomes a blank mask again. When she looks back up to him the empty coldness that radiates from her eyes actually makes him shiver. He begins to seriously consider the fact that she may be psychotic and become nervous.

"The person," she continues in a chilling deadpan tone, "that you killed."

He feels his guts turn to water. Pure instinctive panic begins to race through his veins as he stares at her in shocked disbelief.

"What-?"

He doesn't mean to croak but cannot build any wind. This is a joke; it has to be a joke, someone is _obviously_ screwing with him.

"I-I've never killed anyone," he finally manages to get out. "Never. I swear to God." He swallows. "Look, this must be a joke. You don't-"

"No…_Oh_, no," she snaps viciously, interrupting him. He jumps in surprise when her fist suddenly slams against the table. "This is no joke, _Jesse Madison_."

The way she spits his name out starts to make him feel slightly ill. It she hadn't made it clear before, it is obviously clear now that this woman somehow knows him and knows that he still has no idea how.

"You killed this man."

She says each word precisely and holds up another picture. The focus of the lens smiles brightly out at him through Kodak gloss. The photo goes down with a _flop_ to join the others on the tableand is immediately replaced with another in front of his nose. The man is now laughing and smiling widely, his eyes screwed shut in amusement.

"You killed his spirit."

_Flop_. She doesn't bother to see where it lands. Another picture flicked in front of him with a wrist like an expert blackjack dealer. The man gliding solitarily amongst a sea of people, jean-clad legs and black skates extended with an easy grace and his face set in natural oblivion to the camera pointed at him.

"You killed his _soul_."

Her voice is becoming harsher with each word and she is starting to throw the photos down harder before whipping new ones up from a seemingly bottomless pile hidden somewhere he can't see.

"You killed _everything_ in him that makes him who he is," she hisses as she holds up yet another photo of the man with his arm around a boy wearing a baseball jersey and cap. "And I want you to see what that looks like."

The look of pure hatred on her face is directed right at him and it makes him swallow. He can feel emotion bubbling in his chest and can't help it. He has never felt so much pain from someone's stare before.

"I want you to see."

Her voice is suddenly quiet and now she is placing the photos down on the table instead of holding them up.

"To think-"

_Flop _goes another photo as she speaks and then he really does gag.

Staring up at him from 5"x 7" professional print is a dark-uniformed cop with blue eyes that stand out brilliantly from the navy dress cap. And then it all makes sense. With one look at the eyes, he remembers.

"About how special he was-"

She is still going full speed, not knowing or perhaps caring about the sudden paleness of his face as another picture comes down over that one. The man is hugging a blonde-haired girl.

"To everyone-"

The man sprawled on his back in grass, wearing a black tank top and shorts. Hands laced behind his head. Sunglasses reflecting the brightness. An easy smile up at the camera.

"Who knew him."

She suddenly is whispering and he hears a tremble in her voice as she places one last picture down. He recognizes her beside the man, her arm wrapped around the base of his neck and pulling him slightly close with a playful smile.

And then she goes quiet. Jesse looks up in shame to meet the quiet fury of her stare.

"Listen-" he begins weakly. He is almost stuttering. "I'm-"

"_Don't _tell me you're sorry," she says softly, venomously. "Don't you fucking dare." She purses her lips. "I highly think it would be in your best interest to just sit there and be quiet."

He shuts his mouth. His fingers are trembling in his lap and he can't swallow.

Her fiery glare goes downward once more at the table and he witnesses again the complete sudden change in her expression as she delicately fingers over the photos. After a moment she slides one closer to her. It is the one of the man skating.

"Did you know he was skating by the time he was four years old?" She speaks softly, reverently, down at the photo as if she is by herself. "He's absolutely amazing on the ice. Not many people really know that he can do all kinds of jumps and tricks." She shakes her head slightly. "God, he was the best damn skater I'd ever _seen_."

She swallows and looks back up. He sees the stone mask return in a flash.

"He doesn't skate anymore," she says in that same soft edged tone as before. "He used to be constantly active, always moving. Now he barely goes outside at all. On good days he might take a walk for a few blocks with me or his wife or one of his kids. On bad days he doesn't even want to open up the blinds to see out."

His chest burns and his eyes sting. She watches the emotions passing over his face with disgust that she doesn't bother to conceal.

"His body may be still alive," she continues as she begins to gather up the photographs. "But for his family, his friends, him_self…_" She smacks the pile back into her bag hard with veracity. "There will be no getting back what you took. What you _murdered_."

She is on her feet then and he still can hardly breathe. When she strides around to stand beside him, all he can do is flinch instinctively. She leans down to whisper hot breath against his ear.

"If it were up to me you'd be a vegetable right now, barely able to even piss on your own," she snarls. "You'd be _wishing_ for death if I had any say in the matter." She straightens to look squarely into his eyes, daring him to look away. He cannot. "I'll be _damned_ if you're going to ever forget about what you've done."

The woman backs away and retrieves her bag, slipping it over her shoulder. She slides her sunglasses up over her head as she faces him again.

"Get used to my face," she snaps. "You're going to be seeing it for the rest of your life."

Without another word, she walks to the door and lets herself out. He listens to her boots clicking on the linoleum as she heads toward the exit.

And he stares at the spot she had just been, unable to move or look away. He just blinks amongst the silence because it is all that he can seem to remember how to do.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her dad and Olivia are just ahead of her and she catches up easily. The three of them fall into step at intermittent intervals several times as they are approaching the large grey building. Each time it happens she sees Olivia smile beside her.

Just before they reach the front door, it is opened from inside and they pause. Her father's face is surprised but Olivia's smile widens as if she is familiar with the young woman standing against the door holding it open.

"Hello!" the woman greets them warmly. Kathleen notices that the woman is looking at her and her father more than at Olivia as she speaks. "Welcome to Earth Angels, thank you for visiting us today."

She then gazes toward Olivia and her smile becomes companionable as she moves forward. "Olivia. It's great to see you again." Her father's partner is also smiling comfortably as the two women hug. "How are you?"

"Great, Kenzie," Olivia replies amicably, squeezing the younger woman's arm. Her eyes are twinkling with her smile as she steps back to stand with them again. "Kenz, I'd like you to meet my partner. This is Elliot Stabler-" Kathleen watches her place a gentle hand on the back of her father's shoulder as she speaks and rests it there as she turns toward her as well. "And this is Kathleen Stabler, his daughter."

She turns slightly toward the both of them and gestures toward the woman in turn.

"Guys, meet Mackenzie Vancouver," she continues pleasantly. "She and I went through the academy at the same time. She's the assistant coordinator of the Southern Tier Police Canine Association in Johnson City and helps direct K-9 in-service training twice a year in Brownville."

Vancouver shakes her head with a smile when she is done. "Yeah, but ask any of them down there," she says affectionately. "I'd much rather be here any day of the week with all these guys. It's hard for me to leave them just for the one week of training. I'd keep every one of them if they'd let me."

She ushers them inside and leads them through the main lobby, which is empty. "There haven't been too many visitors here today," Vancouver says affectionately as she walks, looking back toward them. "So they'll probably be a little excited-" The phone rings at the desk and she stops, gesturing them forward. "You can go on in, I'll be right with you." She winks playfully. "But be careful…they're easy to fall in love with. Trust me."

Kathleen sees her father look at Olivia a bit uncertainly. His partner rests her hand on his back again and then smiles at both of them. "Come on," she says, nodding her head and beginning to walk forward.

"Hello and thank you for calling Earth Angels canine rescue and adoption, how may I help you today?" Vancouver's voice trails from behind the front desk as they make their way in.

Enthusiastic barks and scratching sounds greet them as soon as the three of them step onto the concrete floor. Kathleen looks around in delight at the seemingly endless rows of enormous gated pens and dogs clambering for attention.

"Can I go look around?" she asks, turning her head towards her father with a smile. It ends up being Olivia who answers but it doesn't matter.

"Sure, go ahead," the detective says, waving her arm invitingly.

She nods her acknowledgement but is already making her way over to the first cage. Her heart melts just at the very first one in sight and she just knows that she won't be able to make herself go home for a while.

Kathleen soon loses herself in walking along the cages, kneeling down to pat and rub the heads of all of the different dogs. Every one of them is just as sweet and adorable as can be and she thinks she is in heaven. She had always wanted a dog, her whole life she's wanted one, but unfortunately her brother had always been allergic.

"Ooh…"

The mischievous tone of voice she hears from Olivia makes her look over curiously as she is making her way around near the front of the room again. She sees that the three adults are spread out around the same side of the room and that her father's partner is standing in front of a pen on the row she is walking along.

"Hey, Ell-iot…" Olivia is gesturing out of her sight range with a gleeful smile and her voice is dragging out his name like she is burst out to tell a big secret. "Come here," she encourages. "Come here and see this one."

Intrigued, Kathleen begins to peer over towards where they are but can't see what is in the cage. So she begins to make her way over as her father reaches his partner's side.

The look of pure adoration she sees on her father's face as she keeps heading toward them makes her grin. She quickens her pace, wanting to see what it is that has merited that wonderful expression.

She sees Olivia turn her head toward where Mackenzie is bending down before the cage a few feet away and say something she can't make out. Then the detective is lifting up the gate hook and opening the cage door and her father is looking like he is about to bust with excitement.

When she reaches them, Olivia is standing against the open door. Hearing her approach, the detective looks toward Kathleen and the smile she is wearing is so happy that she has to smile back without even knowing what is going on. Then she turns her head and when Kathleen follows her gaze, she starts to laugh affectionately.

Her father has gone right down on his knees beside a young Great Dane and has one hand stroking over its pointed ears while the other is scratching along the side of its belly. The grey animal is swishing its tail heartily and prancing in place as it keeps turning its head to attack her father with a pink, slobbery tongue.

She knows that at that moment her father may as well be in heaven.

Mackenzie has stepped beside Olivia at this point and Kathleen doesn't realize she is there until she hears the new voice. She turns her head toward the other woman to see her also smiling.

"So," the woman says playfully, "I see _someone_ has made a new friend…" She smiles toward him as he continues to indulge the dog, not even paying attention to them. "That's Pepper, he's actually the only Great Dane we've gotten in a while." She looks toward Kathleen sweetly, nodding toward her father. "Your dad's a dog person?"

Kathleen chuckles. "Oh, yeah," she replied. "He always had big ones growing up, Shepherds mostly. We don't what it is about Great Danes with him, though…any time someone had one at the park when we'd go there, he'd always end up playing with _it_ instead of with us!"

The three of them laughed and then she began making her way inside toward the dog too. Her father smiled toward her brightly as she knelt with him to pet the animal.

"…You said he's looking for a defense dog, right?"

She wasn't actively trying to listen to Olivia and Mackenzie talk a little ways away outside. But she could hear them and even though she didn't make it obvious, the conversation floored her.

"Uh, yeah…" Olivia gave a little sigh as she replied like she was a bit resigned. "I've been talking to some of the K-9 officers around the precinct to see if they had any recommendations…honestly though, I don't think he's really thinking about any certain specifics-" Her voice sounded a little sad. "He just doesn't feel comfortable being in his apartment by himself and feels like having a dog for protection will help."

"Well, if it's an actual _law enforcement_ dog that you guys want," Mackenzie says, "I can talk to Mark Webber, he runs the Ventosa Kennel in North Carolina…I could get you in touch with him if you want to think about getting a certified Patrol K-9. They import dogs from all over the world and they do excellent work training the dogs to protect handlers…"

"Or," she keeps on, "if Elliot really is interested in the Dane here, I can help him get into a number of training courses that teach basic protection techniques to companion animals. They train the dogs to act on command and be aware of threat, things like that. Does he live in a house, or….?"

"He's actually in an apartment complex near Oakland Gardens," she hears Olivia replies. "It's not too far from where his family is. They only allow small pets in the apartments, but I've talked with his super about it and they actually have the first floor specially designated for companion animals…I know there is at least one woman there who has a seeing eye Labrador. So he doesn't have a problem letting Elliot keep a big dog as long as he has a place on that floor…"

A strange roaring sensation begins to fill in her ears and Kathleen turns fully so she can't hear any more.

"You're a _good_ boy, aren't you, huh? Yeah, that's a pretty boy. Good boy."

Her father is now crooning in that silly voice that he'd always used when they were little to make them laugh. It never failed to still work, even now. She smiles again as her attention returns back to her dad. He is rubbing the dog's head with both hands tenderly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She slams her front door closed with a satisfying _bang _and blows out an explosive, exhausted breath as she locks it. Her arms fall to her sides and her bag slides immediately off of her shoulder to plop onto the floor next to the door. She leaves it there. At the moment she doesn't even care.

_God_, she is tired. The squad has been immersed in a gut-wrenching hell of a case and she's had no choice when Cragen had assigned everyone to help. Shift hours had disappeared for all of them about three days ago; she thinks the last time she was home was somewhere around 36 hours ago.

She hasn't done that in…a long while. But it's over now, thank God, and the perp has been caught and she hasn't eaten since around noon. She's starving and she's exhausted and she can't make up her mind which demand to give into first.

The fatigue wins after thinking about it for two seconds. She just wants her bed and about 12 hours of sleep. She's been craving both since yesterday morning.

Not even bothering to turn on any lights, she strips as she walks to her bedroom, leaving shoes and clothes in a trail along the floor. She doesn't care. Her sole source of energy has become taking the steps to the bed and she barely even wants to reach for the covers once she has collapsed onto the mattress.

Ten seconds later her cell phone rings.

From inside the pocket of the jeans scrunched out in the hallway.

Fuck.

She moans as her eyes fly back open and she whimpers pathetically toward the ceiling. The captain had promised that anything else that came up would wait until morning. He'd said he wasn't going to call any of them until they'd had a chance to get some sleep.

She doesn't want to get up, God she doesn't want to get up. Just stop ringing…stop ringing…stop ringing- God_ damn it. _On ring ten she sits up instinctively and throws one leg over the side of the bed.

The ringing stops. She swears viciously as she throws herself immediately back against her pillows, anxious to get relaxed so she can fall into blessed sleep-

And then the cordless phone begins to ring on the bedside table.

She yells angrily, slamming a fist into her pillow before she claws savagely upright to reach for it. Her eyes are drawn to the clock as she grabs the cursed instrument of Satan and swears vehemently when she sees it is almost 3 am.

"_What?_" she snaps into the receiver.

All it takes for her anger to vanish is the sound of an exhaled breath on the other end. She knows who it belongs to; she doesn't even have to stop for a second before recognizing it.

She has come to be as used to this as is possible these days. Things have been improving- slowly- but still, it is progress and makes her so proud that most days she can't keep it in. She still does get calls during the day at work if anxiety suddenly strikes too fast or too hard for his family to be able to distract him…but it's not every day anymore. And he's able to sleep in his own apartment most days of the week when someone stays with him.

That was a little shaky at first, even with the dog who had learned massive amounts in an impressive amount of time, because he was still frightened and feeling like his partner was the only one who could keep him safe when he was asleep. She's still spending more nights of the week at his apartment than her own, but there aren't as many nightmares as before.

He does still have them sometimes, though, and sometimes if she is not the one staying with him on those nights she will end up with a sudden frantic phone call in the early morning hours. He still has a hard time handling some of those nightmares; they just scare him too much. She supposes it might always be that way.

Usually it takes her about a half hour to calm him from hysterically begging that she come there right now to falling asleep to the words she uses to soothe him over the receiver. It gets hard for her sometimes because it makes her feel so helpless- it's a struggle to have to be the voice of calm, trying to convince him it might be alright to try and let whoever is there at the moment (usually Kathy) comfort him, when her every instinct is fighting not to jump in her car that second to go be with him.

Most of those times she just ends up having to sit on the phone with him and let him cry with her heart broken, because she knows even after all this time he is still too ashamed to let anyone in his family know he is scared and tries not to let them hear him. Most of the time, no one even knows that he calls hers.

"Elliot," she murmurs. She wants to keep fatigue from coloring her voice too much but she really can't. She has to force herself to sit upright anyway though, because she knows she has to try. Her hand finds the lamp beside the phone base in attempt to make the rude brightness keep her alert even as she inhales sleepily. "What's the matter?"

"Y-you didn't answer your phone." He is almost whispering and she can hear that his voice is shaking.

Olivia inhales again and forces softness into her tone. "I just didn't get to it in time, sweetie," she says gently. "That's all. I'm not going anywhere, I just couldn't get it before it stopped ringing."

He is sniffling against the receiver and it sounds like he might be crying a little, but she can't really tell. All she can hear is his shaky breaths over and over.

"What's wrong, baby?" she asks again, a little more firmly this time though she makes sure her words stay tender, encouraging. The only way to stop him from getting worked up before he starts is to force him to focus. Plus, she is just so tired…she's not sure she won't accidentally snap and she would hate herself if she did that to him. "Can you please tell me what's wrong?"

Elliot swallows painfully but still says nothing for a long few moments. She can definitely hear tears now…as much as she wants to say something to prod him she forces herself to bite her lip.

"It's alright," she says instead with strained patience. "Take your time, Elliot. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

Another long few silent breaths.

"P-Pepper barked," he finally whispers shakily. He gulps as he swallows again. "I thought I heard him at front door and it-it sounded like there was someone walking out in the hallway." He sniffled again meekly.

Even though she is exhausted and cranky, her heart swells with sadness and sympathy. Her lips pout instinctively as she speaks tenderly. "Who's there with you, honey?" she asks. "Kathy?"

He sniffs. "N-no," he says in a nasally tone, like he's just wiped his face. "Maureen."

Olivia nods into the phone as if he can see it but knows from experience that sometimes the gesture can come across through the sound of her voice. "Did it wake her up?"

"No," he whimpers again. "I didn't hear her get up."

She can tell without even knowing exactly what position he is in at the moment. He is undoubtedly curled up in bed, clutching the phone fearfully as he speaks to her and wouldn't have taken one step outside of his bedroom to see. She exhales sadly but continues to speak lovingly. She pretty much thinks she knows what is wrong.

"Okay," she soothes. "Sweetie, Pepper probably might need to just go to the bathroom…is he barking still?"

"No. I don't know."

"Alright…well, honey, I think maybe that might be all that's wrong," she continues gently. "If there was someone trying to get in, Pepper would definitely be making noise and I know Maureen would be able to hear if anything was going on out there on the sofa. Do you know where Pepper is right now?"

"He's in here now," he answers.

Olivia smiled at the sound of innocence in his voice. "Does he seem alert?"

"No," Elliot answers. "He's laying here in my bed and he wants me to pet him."

She laughs sweetly. "Oh," she says. "Well, I think everything is probably okay then. It doesn't sound like he's too worried."

She can hear the sound of heavy dog pants now and shakes her head in amusement. All traces of panic that she had heard in Elliot's voice seem to have disappeared and she's so, so tired….

"Mmm….do you think you can go back to sleep now, Elliot?" she asks, stretching a little. He just makes a distracted noise and she knows he is now focused on the animal he loves so much. "Hey….sweetie, how about we turn on the TV until we get tired again, okay?"

It is the end of their routine. Once he is calm, she gets both of them to turn on the same channel in their bedrooms. Having the quiet noise puts him at ease; plus she is able to distract him from being upset that she can't be there because it lets them "watch" it like they are together.

Olivia leans back tiredly against her pillows as blue light from the small screen in front of her bed sets a glow over the room.

"What channel looks good?" she says sleepily as she flips through with the remote.

He just murmurs noncommittally. She knows that it is likely one or both of them will be asleep before whatever they decide on really gets their attention.

She settles back with a smile as she readjusts the phone against her ear. They probably won't talk anymore because usually he's the one who drops off first. But with the way her vision is starting to swim, she is not so sure about that tonight.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He doesn't plan on it happening; Christ, of course he doesn't plan on it. He sees her every day, nights mostly too. She stays with him frequently, he stays with her frequently…she has just always been her wonderful self and the things they do together as a family just haven't ever seemed awkward.

He certainly hadn't planned this during the ride back from the doctor's office this afternoon, or while she had been walking with him into his apartment like she always does, or as she was telling him about the kids wanting to go to the movies and that she would call him tomorrow about it as she got ready to leave.

He isn't sure what is happening. All he knows is that as soon as her hand reached for the doorknob, he was grasping her arm gently to pull her back and now he is kissing her. He is kissing her like he wants to swallow her and she is leaning back against the wall with her fingers gripping the ends of his hair with fiercely.

He doesn't think about what it means. He doesn't care about what might happen. All he knows is that he hasn't had sex in so long and she is so fucking beautiful and he suddenly needs to remember what she feels like inside of him so much that he can't stand it.

He thinks he hears him say his name as she gasps for breath but he can't really pay attention to any of his senses because she is grasping his neck, yanking him into her body with a wild force that makes him pant. He is trying to get his tongue in her mouth but she is dueling him as she devours his.

His hands slide clumsily down towards her hips and he bunches her sweater up, trying to get to the zipper of her skirt. He manages to slide it down some as her fingers are clawing at into the back of his jeans. He lets her step back long enough to hastily yank the sweater over her head before cupping her face once more, molding her mouth into his. She is smiling wickedly against his lips and he pants out a mischievous chuckle.

They are both breathing hard now as he allows her to deftly unbutton his jeans. He is attacking her neck with gentle sucking that he knows drives her crazy and he is becoming so hard that he might rip his jeans right off his body if she doesn't hurry up.

Kathy grins deviously, seeing the effect it is having on him and delighting in dragging it out. She lets go of his jeans long enough to trail her hand down over his crotch and then cups it gently. He moans so loudly that it makes her jump and burst out laughing. He growls deep in his throat when she begins to push the jeans away from his briefs and she teases his penis through the fabric, feeling the growing hardness.

He closes his eyes to see blissful white and inhales through his nose, feeling like he is high, and oh _God_ yes this feels so good, this is just what-

And then suddenly it is black and he no longer sees her face against his closed eyes, it is no longer _her_ hands that are on him but someone else, someone who smells like sickening sweat and is grunting in a deep, vicious voice.

His stomach begins to swirl as the skin against his becomes rough and brusque instead of soft and feminine. Then he can feel the hardness of another erection brushing against his buttocks before it goes into-

He shudders and pops his eyes open. "Stop," he says, his frame tensing. "Stop, let go."

Kathy starts when his body jerks and her hands freeze in shock from where she had been teasingly swirling her finger across the smooth skin of his butt.

"El?" she asks in surprise, tilting her head up to look at his face. Seeing his pale face shocks her and she immediately begins reaching toward him in concern. "Honey? Are-"

He shakes his head urgently and gently moves her aside before tearing toward the bathroom. He skids to his knees, opens the lids, and begins to dry heave.

Kathy stands helpless where she is and listens as the heaving sounds begin to mix with anguished sobs in the air.


End file.
